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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25655689">choking on rosaries and wine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintpyrite/pseuds/saintpyrite'>saintpyrite</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Catholic School, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Art Teacher Remus, Drinking, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, School Chaplain Patton, Slow Burn, Smoking, Tags May Change, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:28:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>28,952</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25655689</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintpyrite/pseuds/saintpyrite</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Patton Hart has always put his faith in the teachings he was taught, believed in everything he was told and never once questioned if he'd been taught the wrong thing this whole time. Only when he meets Remus Prince, the new head of art, who finds every possible way to get under his skin with his mere presence alone does he find himself wondering if there is more to his faith and his life than what he was taught in bibles and scriptures.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>104</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>72</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. the first rosary bead</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You wouldn’t know it was coming into the first month of the autumn season with how humid the air was, the sun beating down on Patton through the window of his car. Patting himself down until he could find his handkerchief, Patton made a mental note to turn on the air conditioning, once he was inside the chapel so there would be enough time for the room to cool down to a reasonable level before morning mass rolled around. Dabbing at his forehead to soak up the sweat trickling down and shedding his cardigan to throw over his arm, Patton gathered his bags and climbed out of his little car. </p><p>It was surprising when the first thing to grace his ears was the explicit lyrics of a song he’d never heard of, the sound inescapable now that he was out in the open. He must have been stuck inside his own head that it had escaped him in the car, the noise muffled in the safety of the vehicle but now he couldn’t ignore it, sexualised acts being described in unsavoury ways to loud drums and screaming throwing Patton off and making him red from his neck flush up to the tips of his ears.</p><p>Looking around for the source of the racket, he found his eyes locked with a man across the parking lot seated on the hood of a banged-up Chevrolet, a layer of filth and scratches almost hiding the shiny green coat underneath. Patton didn’t want to make assumptions but looking at the car then the presumed owner, he felt it was rather fitting that a nice car had been ruined when the owner looked as if he’d come straight off of the front cover to one of those metalhead magazines. </p><p>“Oh dear,” Patton mumbled under his breath, swallowing down the lump in his throat. He wasn’t frightened of the stranger, he told himself but a part of him figured a man whose demeanour was a thick, suffocating smog must be intimidating, the man hadn’t even blinked once from what he could tell. Even so, the music was a public disturbance, highly inappropriate for a school and that wasn’t even scratching the surface with the abundance of cigarettes littering the ground underneath the car. </p><p>“Excuse me,” Patton called out, though he got no response. He locked up his car and pocketed away his keys before waving over at the man, hoping to catch his attention and elicit a response, “Hello!”</p><p>The stranger waved back, his movement lazy and languid as if it was too much effort to greet someone. Afterwards, he let his arm rest on top of his knee, cigarette clutched between his fingers and smoke passing through full lips. Patton got a better look at the man when he crossed the parking lot and it was startling, taking in his dishevelled appearance as if it was a stylistic choice rather than a wardrobe malfunction. </p><p>Patton knew every man, woman and child in the little town he called home so it was clear that this man was new. It could be a relative or a single parent to one of the children just starting this year, as he saw no wedding band and a judgemental part of him couldn’t imagine anyone in this town being married to a man so loud, even when silent. He tried not to think about the passing judgement he just made, chastising himself for being rude before he even talked to the man. Even so, it was as if the apple tree you took pride in had suddenly sprouted a green apple amongst all the beautiful red ones.</p><p>Up close, the stranger looked as if he was going to be twice Patton’s height and he was as broad as Patton was wide. His hair was an ash brown colour, streaked with threads of grey in the front as if they were woven carefully into the locks and it had been shaved into a faux hawk that was bridging the gap towards mullet and he had a dark shadow over a jagged, sharp jaw that was overshadowed by the impressive and neat moustache on his upper lip. Patton was almost envious of the moustache, he couldn’t grow anything except rough tufts of facial hair so he just kept himself neat and shaven. </p><p>“Hello, sir,” Patton smiled, polite as can be and extended his hand out so the stranger could shake it. He tried to focus on the old saying about judging a book by the cover but when the stranger made no effort to shake his hand, instead he raised it to take another drag from the cancer stick, he was starting to feel a little agitated. If anything, it made him feel ignored and a little stupid, especially as his hand just hovered mid-air between them.</p><p>Withdrawing it back, coughing into it to try and dispel the awkward silence that had settled, he tried again with a small smile, “I’m Patton Hart, I work here as I’m sure you can guess so.” </p><p>That got nothing from the man whose eyes merely roamed up and down Patton’s body with a dark, unreadable expression that twisted his stomach in knots and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end. It was as if he was being crushed under the weight of the stranger's gaze and it didn’t help that he had no idea how to talk to him whatsoever. </p><p>“As I was saying,” he started again, Patton talking with his hands as he began to become a bundle of nerves under the man’s scrutiny. “I was wondering if you’d kindly turn off the music and put out the cigarettes, maybe dispose of the ends in the bin at the front?”</p><p>Met with continuous silence, though his request got him a raised eyebrow as a response followed by a complacent smirk as he drew on the cigarette again. It was as if he was challenging Patton to continue or goading him on, smoking out of spite now. </p><p>“It’s just that the students will be arriving soon,” He found himself rambling at the man now, he’d never been met with such an unreadable stare and little to go off when talking to anyone. “I’d hate for them to see you, I mean, not <em> you </em> but the example you’re setting with the inappropriate music, the smoking and the littering…” </p><p>A flicker of hope, the man pushed up from the hood of the car after inhaling on the remainder of the stick as it burnt out towards the end. The stranger exhaled out, blowing smoke rings into the air above them before looking Patton in the eye as he dropped the cigarette to the floor and put it out under his boot.</p><p>“Sure, I’ll turn off the music,” was all he got, the voice gravelly and self-satisfied. The man began to make his way around the car to turn off the music and presumably grab his things, not that Patton planned to wait around to find out. Huffing, he tightened the grip on his bag and made his way towards the entrance of the building, only feeling his mood flare up even more when he heard the man laughing to himself as he stormed into the building. </p><p>How could one person be so rude?</p><hr/><p>“I couldn’t believe it, Jan!” </p><p>After the encounter with the rude stranger, Patton had been lucky enough to run into his colleague and close friend Janus on the way up to the religious studies department and the other had accompanied him up to the adjoining chapel so he could vent out his frustrations. </p><p>Now, he wasn’t even sure Janus was listening because the other had his face buried in his phone the entire time he’d been sat in the pew. Sliding the numbers into place for the hymns, Patton kept on talking as if he hadn’t gone over the scenario in differing details three times already.</p><p>“Who plays music in the parking lot so early in the morning anyhow?” Taking a pause to swap the numbers around, realising he’d made a mistake and god forbid he had the children sing the wrong hymn at the end. “I wonder if I should have called the police, though maybe that would have been overkill…”</p><p>His encounter with the mysterious and rude stranger had thrown him off his rhythm and as much as he hated to admit it, he’d gotten under his skin in a way that nobody had ever done before. It was as if the patience and understanding Patton prided himself on had been tested against the heat of a burning forge, leaving him to wonder if God was trying to test him so early at the beginning of the school year. </p><p>“Overkill?” Janus’ voice pulled him from his train of thought, dripping with sarcasm as if it were venom from the fangs of a snake, “<em>Surely not</em>, Patton, it wasn’t as if the stranger refused to turn off his music afterwards and I’m just positive you’ll see the man again.” </p><p>“I get it, I get it; I’m just overreacting,” Patton pouted, careful to get off the stepladder once the numbers were positioned. Looking around the chapel, he was pleased with the set-up thus far and how well the cleaners had kept the upkeep of the place while the holidays were on. “I doubt I’ll see him again, though there is one thing I just realised about the whole thing…” </p><p>Janus raised an eyebrow, looking up at Patton for a split second before glancing down at his phone to see the time. The perfect excuse to get out of the same conversation for the fourth time in a row and to evade this new epiphany over the whole thing. </p><p>“I’m glad you’ve come to your senses to realise I’m right as always, Patton,” standing up and gathering his own belongings, Janus looked ready to bolt and with good reason this time rather than just Patton’s drawn-out rambling. “We have to put a pause on that melodrama epiphany you’ve got and head to the morning meeting, what with the new staff member and the general bullshit that Thomas feels the need to spiel at the start of the year.”</p><p>“One, I’m not being melodramatic,” Patton huffed, though he found himself breaking out into a smile rather quickly. He’d missed hanging around Janus during the summer break, what with his friend leaving to visit family in another state while he stayed behind to enjoy the free time he had, text messages back and forth just didn’t do it for Patton. “Two, no swearing in God’s house!”</p><p>“I’m sure God will agree with me on the fact that Thomas talks--” Janus was cut off as Patton covered his mouth, muffling the cursing. Giving up, Janus settled for narrowing his eyes in a mock glare at his friend until Patton let him go. “Fine, fine, I’ll say ten Hail Marys later or something but we should hurry up, it wouldn’t look good to be late.”</p><p>Patton nodded eagerly, accepting Janus’ apology with an amused grin and followed the man out of the chapel into the main building of the school it was attached to. It was easy to forget the incident this morning now that he was back with a good friend in the place he felt most at home, knowing he had the rest of the school year to look forward to and all the new faces that would come with it. </p><p>Once the chapel was locked up, so they wouldn’t have another wine theft incident, Patton let Janus lead the way to the faculty room where they’d be meeting the new head of art and get the start of the year pep talk from Principal Sanders. </p><p>“I wonder what the new teacher will be like.”</p><hr/><p>Regret was a bitter-tasting word that sat on the end of his tongue, one that Patton would prefer not to use if he could help it as he believed any mistake made was a mistake worth learning from, it’s what he’d been preached his whole life by his pastor and his parents yet he found himself praying for strength and forgiveness as soon as he’d stepped foot into the faculty break room, wondering if his assumption that God was testing him held truth. </p><p><em> Not to be crude, </em> Patton thought to himself, <em> but what the fuck, Lord? </em></p><p>He grabbed Janus’ wrist, pulling his friend back towards the door so he could whisper low and quiet with his eyes trained on the man across the room, “That’s the man from the car park!”</p><p>The man in question looked as if he’d attempted to be presentable compared to how Patton had seen him, his dark green shirt buttoned up to the second-to-top button and the sleek black tie was tied into a neat little Windsor knot. He’d even attempted to comb back the unruly hair, though he still had a dishevelled look about him that made him come across more as if he was a criminal awaiting trial than someone working inside the walls of a renowned Catholic school. </p><p>Janus’ eyes roamed up and down, an appreciative hum following the sly smile on his face, “Oh yeah?” Patton nodded in response, maybe too eager and too frantic to confirm Janus’ questioning look, “I can see why you don’t like him, all those tattoos and the piercings. He looks like the sort of guy your parents would call a godless delinquent, they’d have a fit knowing a man like that is teaching here.”</p><p>“That’s not funny, Jan.” He wasn’t wrong though, Patton’s parents had gone to Saint Thomas’ Catholic Academy themselves and so had Patton. If they knew the academy had hired a man with tattoos adorning his hands and god knows where else, one who blasted explicit lyrics in the staff parking lot and smoked like a chimney, Patton would expect them to have a heart attack. “Do you think he’s the new art teacher?”</p><p>“Only one way to find out,” much to Patton’s hushed protests, Janus left him to stand around until he felt compelled to follow his dark-skinned friend to greet the mystery man. He couldn’t say he was pleased about it, though Patton put on a polite smile nonetheless when the stranger caught his eye. </p><p>“Sanders, how was your summer break?” Janus asked, playing up the false politeness himself to a sickening amount. It’s what made Janus likable, he was charming whether people realised it was fake or not and it had taken time for Patton to realise the nuances of Janus’ body language and reluctance to open up. </p><p>“Oh, Mr Dolos!” Thomas was a kind man however, open and honest with a bright outlook on the future of the academy. Normally, Patton agreed with his every decision without question but looking at the stranger once more, he was starting to doubt this one. “Mr Hart too, it’s great to see you both. My summer was great, back to work I’m afraid now.”</p><p>Fake laughter bubbled out of Janus and Patton would have to scold him for being so mean with Thomas one of these days, he couldn’t understand why Janus had to put a wedge between him and everyone else on staff. Nonetheless, Patton smiled and laughed along as well before the focus shifted on the metaphorical elephant in the room.</p><p>“Let me introduce you both, this is our new head of art, Remus Prince.” Thomas introduced and the name was strangely normal for a man who looked so out of place to Patton. It was nice, even, too nice and too proud and it rubbed him up the wrong way how Remus kept looking him up and down. </p><p>Janus introduced himself first, “Everyone calls me Mr Dolos in the classroom, though just call me Janus and this is our school chaplain, Patton Hart.”</p><p>A discreet jab in the arm from Janus coaxed Patton from his trance, barely biting back a whine of pain before he found a hand extending out to him so he could shake it. Patton took it, giving a firm shake and a part of him wondered why Remus couldn’t be this<em> normal </em>outside in the parking lot where they’d first met and the other half of him that he didn’t wish to indulge wondered why Remus was so<em> tall </em>and look how<em> long </em>his fingers are,   <em> stop thinking, he’s talking at you, listen, Patton! </em></p><p>“We’ve already met,” Remus smirked at him, his head tilted back and eyes looking down his nose at Patton. The man looked far too pleased with himself and Patton wasn’t a fan of the way that felt, how his stomach coiled and twisted and maybe, a small part of him didn’t like Remus all that much either. “I’m Remus Prince, a pleasure to meet you formally, Padre.”</p><p>“It’s just Mr Hart,” Patton offered back begrudgingly, trying to keep the strained politeness in his tone steady. “So you’ll be teaching art?”</p><p>It was a genuine question, though he had presented it as if it was a challenge. He wanted to take it back, even more so when Remus took his hand back with a short, curt laugh followed with that sly smile that made Patton’s skin crawl as if he was being watched by a predator in the dark of night.</p><p>“I am, yeah. I figured it’d be a nice change of pace from the usual.” Remus ran a hand through the thick of his brown-grey locks, making himself look even more dishevelled than before. “I’m sure I can rely on your spiritual guidance to help me if I need it, eh?” </p><p>“I’ll pray for your success and well-being, Mr Prince.” </p><p>Patton got the last word but it didn’t feel as if he won anything in that interaction, his cheeks flaring up a fierce red from what he could only believe to be frustration when Remus winked at him just as Thomas called for everyone to look his way and listen. Janus snorted in amusement, leading Patton to their usual seats in the corner of the staff room so that the English teacher could get away with playing on his phone throughout the pep talk. </p><p>He wouldn’t admit it and he’d find a way to get around talking about it if Janus brought it up but Patton found himself watching Remus, who was sat on a swivel chair at the edge of the room after his introduction to the remaining staff members, spinning in small arcs as Thomas spoke. </p><p>Patton couldn’t figure out why Remus frustrated him so much, how someone he’d just met managed to get under his skin with so little effort but he could feel the blood rise to his cheeks and his frown set in deep when Remus caught his eye across the room, amusement twinkling in those dark eyes, winking at the chaplain again as if it was some sort of game they were playing.</p><p>Patton had always tried to get to know a person before he judged them, it was how he was told to act, even if his parents didn’t see their own hypocrisy but Patton was positive about two things thus far. The first being that the Lord must be trying to test his goodwill and faith by sending the likes of Remus to his safe haven.</p><p>The second thing is that he did not care for Remus one bit.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. the second rosary bead</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>By the time October rolls around, Remus is everywhere. </p><p>He's a suffocating smog, a thick fog that won't lift and Patton is trapped in the depths of it. The scent of smoke and turpentine lingers and makes him sick to his stomach, twisting his insides whenever he has to share air in the same space as the insufferable art teacher.</p><p>Patton manages to find solace in the fact that their schedules don’t align, what with Remus spending most of his time in his classroom teaching students while Patton hides away in the chapel,  giving spiritual guidance and acting as a shoulder for students to lean on. The only time he runs into Remus during school hours is in the faculty room on breaks and sometimes when they pass in the hallway or the car park after hours which suits Patton just fine.</p><p>What doesn’t suit him just fine is how Remus seems to have coiled Janus around his finger, more often than not, he’s walked into the staff room to find his best friend laughing at whatever inappropriate joke or story Remus spun for him. That’s fine though, Janus can have other friends and he knows how hard Janus has it in a small, judgmental town when the man has a large burn covering one side of his face but why did it have to be Remus of all people?</p><p>Remus Prince who smokes on school grounds and leaves his cigarette butts <em> everywhere </em> ; the same Remus who plays loud metal music and songs with highly inappropriate lyrics in the parking lot; <em> Remus </em> who flirts with the parents of the children and acts as if teaching and moulding the minds of the next generation is a big game with no consequences. </p><p>Patton shook off the thought, fingers dancing about his knees as he was waiting on his favourite student. He knows he shouldn’t have favourites but it was easy to find one who he looked forward to seeing when the kids got distant the older they got. Nobody wanted to rely on the chaplain, it was understandable but there was one particular student who always came by, a young man named Virgil Storme.</p><p>He’d met the young man in his first year and felt he’d made a real connection with this quiet, sarcastic and talented student. He had an artistic talent that Patton encouraged him to pursue and he’d always offered Virgil a quiet and confidential place to talk in the chapel when he began to realise the boy was dealing with a rough home life. It wasn’t hard to imagine how Patton had become attached, acting as a surrogate father for Virgil to the best of his ability. </p><p>So it was a little wounding when it had been a month into the year and Virgil had yet to stop by and even curiouser when he’d seen Virgil around school, had even greeted one another in the halls. Maybe the boy had made a friend or two, that would be relieving but he couldn’t help the worry clawing away inside of him. </p><p>That’s why Patton was hesitating and hovering around Remus’ classroom right now, knowing this was the last class Virgil had before the break. It shouldn’t be daunting, it was a classroom he’d been in and out of plenty of times.</p><p>So why did it feel as if he were Daniel, being thrown to his death in the lion’s den? </p><hr/><p>He was expecting a viper pit or a lion’s den when he stepped into the classroom, Patton couldn’t tell anyone why other than the unease he felt in the presence of Remus but if anything, he was taken aback by what he saw.</p><p>At the back of the classroom, where the retired teacher before had stored canvases, easels and other such big pieces of equipment, had been cleared away to make room to get to the back wall. It had always been this hideous off-white colour, stained with streaks of paint from pictures too close to the wall when sitting on drying racks but now, there was the backbones and skeletons of a mural coming to life. Streaks of black and splashes of colour here and there as it was taking shape and given that Remus was handing a clean brush and paint to Virgil, it would seem it was a joint effort of teacher and student.</p><p>It was impressive, <em> too impressive </em> because Patton didn’t expect Virgil to be here in all honesty and he didn’t expect this vision of Remus to come to light when he’d built up this image of him in his head.</p><p>The illusion shattered pretty quickly and Patton kept to his roots, frowning setting in when Remus looked over his shoulder at the click of the door and his lips turned up into the wicked grin Patton associated with devils and demons. The art teacher pats Virgil on the shoulder, mumbles something Patton didn’t catch before making his way over to the chaplain. </p><p>“What can I do for you, Padre?” Remus’ tone is teasing, grin wide enough to show off the silver tooth he has. Patton stares at that rather than make eye contact with Remus.</p><p>“I was just checking in on Virgil,” Patton kept himself polite as always but it was hard to miss the subtle distaste he had for Remus. “I was hoping to ask you about him but I guess I don’t need to, my question has been answered.”</p><p>Remus gestured to the mural in a languid fashion, his entire body language had a carefree feel to it as if he couldn’t care less about anything going on around him. It was fitting, ridiculously so.</p><p>“Virgil is helping me make this room look less fucking boring; I got other kids helping out but he just wants to keep going so figured why not.”</p><p>Patton narrowed his eyes, arms crossed over his chest, “<em> Language </em>, Mr Prince.”</p><p>Nonetheless, Remus looked like he was doing a world of good for Virgil’s talent if the smile on the quiet boy’s face was anything to go off of. It made his entire body deflate at the realisation that Virgil may no longer need him the way he used to, now that Remus had shown up. Not that Virgil owed him his time, Patton just worried too much.</p><p>“I should leave you both,” Patton managed, the lingering silence between the two bring about the tension that always occurred when the two were in the same room for too long. </p><p>Remus shrugged, “You can stay if you want; I brought a kettle from home to make coffee or tea.” He let Patton just stand there to simmer in the offer, picking up a Bluetooth speaker from the table and sitting back next to Virgil on the floor.</p><p>He found himself standing there, watching as Virgil started up a song using his own phone and the way he lit up as the music kicked in, the paintbrush in his hand. He watched how Remus ruffled the kid’s hair, how he laughed and joked as if he was a friend rather than a teacher.</p><p>It made Patton feel uneasy, he couldn’t place why. He was quick to leave the classroom and he didn’t look back to see if either of them had noticed Patton had left.</p><hr/><p>In the grand scheme of things, Friday night was meant to be a nice night in with a feel-good film, leftover lasagna and cookie dough ice cream. Instead, Patton found himself corralled into getting drinks at the bar with Janus and if it had only been Janus, it might have been a good time regardless.</p><p>The downside to having his Friday night plans interrupted was the likelihood of Remus being there too and just as he predicted, Remus was there against the bar. Patton couldn’t help the annoying whine that escaped his lips, earning him a gentle swatting from Janus.</p><p>Janus scolded him quietly, though put on a smile and waved at Remus as they came into the crowded bar. “If you gave him a chance, you’d get along.”</p><p>“Hmm…” Patton bites down on his tongue, knowing there was no good follow up.</p><p>“If you spent more time talking to him rather than <em> staring </em>, you’d see that.” Janus shrugged, “Come on, I’d kill for a glass of wine.” </p><p>Patton watched as Janus greeted Remus in a hug, slow on the walk around to the bar to observe the two. He couldn’t understand Janus, how his friend thought there was any way in which Remus would see eye to eye with Patton. More often than not, Patton had to bite back a snide comment whenever Remus made a sexual joke or flirted with people as if it was an appropriate way to act as a teacher. It was made even worse because Remus made the effort to outright ignore him beyond the nods and small talk as if he was a ghost. It was strangely reminiscent of his first time meeting the man back in the parking lot, in fact, and that just made Patton frustrated. </p><p>He could really use a drink.</p><hr/><p>He lost track of Janus a good hour and a half in and was nursing his second drink after about two hours, knowing he should probably call a Lyft or an Uber and head home. Even so, Patton found himself contemplating nothing and everything all at once, sipping away at the fruity cocktail the bartender had slipped his way after he’d asked for a surprise. Patton didn’t drink often, rarely, even so, he didn’t have a signature drink as Janus would call it. The fruit drinks were tasty though, at least he had that going for him right now.</p><p>It hadn't even passed his mind that Remus had been here and there about the night, barely giving Patton a glance. Normally, it would have gotten under his skin but Patton spent far too much time contemplating why he'd agreed to come along in the first place that he'd skimmed over the fact. He could have lived without wondering about Remus.</p><p>Unfortunately, God must have had other plans because, in that moment, Remus leaned forward on the bar next to him asking for a vodka and coke before grinning down at Patton who was sipping away at his cocktail with a tension in his shoulders and that <em> same old knot </em> in his stomach whenever Remus got too close. </p><p>“I didn’t take you for a drinker, Preacher.”</p><p>Huffing, Patton busied one hand with the straw, “What’s so strange about me having a drink? I’m an adult with a job, no different than you.”</p><p>Remus finds a stool to drag over, sitting on it to loom over Patton like a godforsaken shadow as if he’s just ignoring the passive-aggressive body language he’d been putting out. He probably wasn’t even ignoring it, Patton could see it now, how smug he would look when he realises Patton was uncomfortable with how close they were sitting together. </p><p>"True," Remus chuckles and it shouldn't be such a soft sound from a man who looked as if he kicked puppies for fun, "Though  you and I are <em> very </em> different, Padre."</p><p>"You're telling me." </p><p>There is a lull in the conversation, an uncomfortable pause and Patton feels guilt run through his veins as fluid as the blood there. Janus' words rang in his ear and as much as he doesn't believe those words, he should <em> try </em> and engage Remus in friendly conversation, that's what a good neighbour would do and one should always try to live by the golden rule. </p><p>"So, an artist…" he realises that should have come out better but Patton wasn't raised a quitter, "Have you always taught art?" </p><p>Remus appears caught off guard and pleasantly surprised that Patton asked him, his face breaking out into a grin. "Nah, I started out doing gallery work then branched out into street art. Most people would have called it vandalism but you know, one man’s wall is another mans’ canvas.”</p><p>“I don’t think that’s how that works,” Patton mumbled, sipping at his drink again. </p><p>“That’s because you’re too bent upon keeping everyone happy and staying in line,” Remus smirked, taking a large gulp of his own drink. Patton found himself watching how his throat bobbed, not that it was anything of interest. He just happened to be looking in the direction. “People like you don’t take risks, you don’t go out of your comfort zone to do something you’re afraid of."</p><p>“That’s ridiculous; I don’t need to take risks or go out of my comfort zone, I’m happy with everything as it is. That’s more than I can say for you if you feel the need to make fun of others for being content.”</p><p>Remus snorted at that which became a coughing fit. He raised a single finger, keeping Patton in his seat until he managed to maintain some level of self-control, delving back into soft but hoarse laughter: “All that charm and you can’t get laid, Padre, you sure you’re not overcompensating with the sweet, kind chaplain act?”</p><p>Gritting his teeth and biting back his tongue, Patton downed the rest of his drink and laid out the cash on the table. He didn’t even count how much he was tipping at the point but he couldn’t stand the embarrassment of being <em> near </em> Remus, listening to lewd comments about his sex life and berating him. </p><p>“Hey,” Remus reached to grab his wrist, “Where are you going?”</p><p>“<em> Home. </em>” Patton bit back, wrestling his wrist out of Remus’ loose grip before marching out of the bar with the Uber app open on his phone. He didn’t even bother looking for Janus, Patton could just text him later.</p><p>The air was cooler than the morning breeze had been, a wind blowing through the air that was enough to send a shiver down Patton’s spine and drain the red from his face. It already felt easier to breathe, now that he was out in the open and away from the smog that was Remus Prince.</p><p>Patton wasn’t even sure why he was so disgusted by his sex life being brought up so abruptly or why having his lifestyle berated by someone who couldn’t even care enough about himself to give up a habit like smoking. If it had been anyone else, he may have shrugged it off and let it slide or if it was a constant taunting, he’d have made it clear he was uncomfortable but Remus prodding him with a metaphorical stick was enough to set him off in a way he couldn’t explain, it was as if he felt threatened by the artist’s existence.</p><p>Checking his phone to see how far away the Uber was, Patton didn’t hear the footsteps falling behind and startled at the touch on his shoulder. Swinging his arm around, ready to punch whoever had attempted to grab him, he was surprised and annoyed to find Remus stepping out of his range. </p><p>“What do you want?” </p><p>“I get it, the sex joke,” Remus began, hands raised defensively as if Patton would try to throw another punch. “It makes you goody-two-shoes types uncomfortable, fair enough. Just tell me next time though, I don’t see why you gotta’ storm off.” </p><p>If this was an apology, it was a terrible one. Patton scoffed in response, narrowing his eyes and adjusting his glasses after they’d been knocked askew in his panic.</p><p>“I wasn’t uncomfortable,” A little white lie, Patton wasn’t about to let this guy know about any insecurities he had though. Remus would only use them to his advantage no doubt, “I just don’t see why it’s any of your business, just because I don’t sleep around and flirt with everything that breathes.”</p><p>That threw Remus through a loop for a second, the assuming comment cutting through him if the look on his face was anything to go off and the harsh tone that accompanied it. He let his hands fall to his side, studying Patton with unreadable eyes.</p><p>“<em>Wow</em>,” Remus burst into laughter, though it wasn’t the soft chuckles from before or the hearty laughter either. It was disbelief and self-satisfied amusement, “You’re <em>slut-shaming </em> me now? Based on an assumption <em> you’ve </em> made?” </p><p>“Is it an assumption? You flirt with Janus all the time, you flirt with half the staff!” Patton bristled, uncertain how to take the laughter in the middle of what was escalating into an argument.</p><p>“Why do you care?” Remus’ tone shifted with a hint of amusement before he took a step into Patton’s personal space. Patton kept his feet rooted to the ground, ready to stand up for himself if this became physical. Remus was taller and broader than him but Patton was wider, had more weight to throw around and a bit of muscle to back up the weight so it wouldn’t be wise for someone to underestimate him. </p><p>“I don’t care, I just happen to notice these things.” </p><p>He could feel the warmth of Remus’ breath on his face, the calm and self-satisfied tone to his voice as he spoke: “You notice things about me often, Padre?”</p><p>It meant nothing to notice these little things, to pick up on the behaviour of a man who’d intruded in on your life and turned it upside down. There was rationality to his disdain for a man who was crass and lacked dignity. </p><p>The smog was back, suffocating and the twists in his stomach coiling. It wasn’t the intimidation this time, it was just<em> there </em>and Patton couldn’t remember when Remus had gotten so close that he could see the rings of brown in his eyes or the faded ink of the crucifix on his neck. He hadn’t realised how he’d been backed into a wall, the brick digging through the cotton of his shirt and grazing his hands when they hit against the wall to brace himself.</p><p>When had he ended up against the wall? When had Remus gotten so close? Why was he so warm all of a sudden and why did Remus have to ask so many questions? </p><p>Remus taunted him, “What’s the matter, preacher?” </p><p>Remus’ voice was an echo, a distant voice despite being so close. One hand pressed against the wall above Patton’s head, the other in his pocket and his chest heaving as if he was struggling to breathe as much as Patton was. He briefly wondered if Remus felt this fear, this indescribable tension throughout his body as if it may burst any second from being too close to Patton, the suffocating smog that settled over them worse at this moment than any other they had shared.</p><p>
  <em> “Scared of something?” </em>
</p><p>Maybe so; he just wasn’t sure what he was afraid of.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. the third rosary bead</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Patton has a memory that stirs in him, a memory he’d kept under lock and key, pushing it down so far that he wouldn’t let himself remember but Remus brings it out in him, this soft memory that stirs shame in the pit of his stomach like a poison. He teeters the line of wondering if God is truly testing him with a man of smoke and fire or if Remus is a demon sent to tempt the darker parts of Patton. </p><p>He remembers soft brown hair and a sharpening jawline that was coming into itself; awkward exchanges and fumbling hands cupping his face but most of all, he remembers a melodic voice telling him things were okay, that<em> they </em>were okay but it wasn’t okay and this wasn’t fine, Remus was too close and it was suffocating him like smoke coiling in his lungs, he couldn’t breathe then and he can’t breathe<em> now</em>. </p><p>Patton can’t bring himself to be concerned with the surprise in Remus’ eyes, the way the man backed up because his chest is burning and he doesn’t know why; he just knows that something is trying to escape from his mortal coil and he<em> can’t </em>let it. He keels over, clutching his chest and gasping for air and the sounds around him become muffled that he barely hears Remus’ voice, even less so when the man runs in with Janus’ name on his lips. </p><p><em> A panic attack</em>, he thinks. It’s nothing he’s ever experienced before, it’s likely to be the end of him if this is how it feels. He remembers how many times he’s found Virgil this way in the halls of the school, hiding in bathroom stalls and now, he can understand the boy. </p><p>Patton thinks about a boy with a face like Remus’ own, softer and sweeter with a clever tongue and creative wit. It was so long ago that the name escapes him and he wonders if that’s why he hates Remus. If the shame he kept to himself, a skeleton in his closet and a secret he wouldn't dare to say aloud, even to himself was what made him have disdain for Remus when he looked at a man who was so sure of himself. He pushes it aside though, too busy trying to focus on how to breathe normally again when Janus swims into his line of sight, frantic and worried.</p><p>He could always rely on Janus to care for him, a soft smile as he leans on Janus. He lets his friend help him up, calm him down with a gentle touch and a soothing voice that tells him everything will be okay. </p><p><em> Little white lies, </em> Patton thinks about how Janus often mentioned lying to himself to feel better, lying to others to put them at ease when he was just as lost as those who sought him out. He wonders if Janus is lying to him now.</p><p>The look of confusion on Remus’ face when the two lock eyes make him think so. </p>
<hr/><p>He had to convince Janus he was fine enough to go home alone, that he didn’t need an escort for an Uber. It takes a promise of texting him and seeing him over the weekend to get his wish and so, Patton makes his way home.</p><p>The driver is kind enough to take him right to the door, offers to help him get there and Patton can only take that to mean he looks like shit. A glimpse in the car’s rear view mirror confirms he looks pale and sickly, his body tense and wrought with exhaustion. Instead, he gets out of the car and tips the man, sending him on his way while he trudges up to his front door to fidget with his keys.</p><p>The house is quiet and for the first time in forever, it’s suffocating to be alone. Everything from the newly shampooed carpet to the displayed china in the cabinet makes him lonely, even though he knows deep down he isn’t alone. He has his parents who are a phone call away, he has Janus who cares for him as a best friend should and he has his numerous friends and acquaintances at the church. It’s ridiculous to feel lonely.</p><p>Yet he does at this moment, Patton can feel the overwhelming emotion of loneliness wash over him like a tidal wave. It might be a good idea to invest in a dog, someone to make the house look more lived in beyond the photographs and trinkets. </p><p>Slipping out of his shoes and making the effort to throw his clothes on the chair in the corner of his bedroom, Patton slips into the shower and lets the water run cold down his back. The shiver and the biting chill is unpleasant but it does what he needs it to do, <em> wash away the sins of the world</em>, he thinks to himself. </p><p>The water warms enough for him to wash himself down, get rid of the clinging scent of smoke from being too close to Remus. Once Remus crossed his mind, he froze even as the glass fogged and the steam rose to the ceiling as if the shower had gone cold once more and left in shivering. The man had cornered him backwards, the grit of the wall against his back and the gravel of Remus’ voice in his ear.</p><p>
  <em> (“Scared of something?” Remus voice in his ear, as if he knew something Patton didn’t.) </em>
</p><p>Rubbing his arms raw with the sponge, Patton grits his teeth and pretends the blur of his vision isn’t tears but because he is without his glasses. He tries to forget how Remus’ teasing tone was rough and ran over his body like nails on a chalkboard, how he loomed over him like a shadow he couldn’t escape and how he could see the way his chest heaved as he inhaled and exhaled as if each breath would be his last. He tries to wash away the remnants of a memory long forgotten, soft sun-kissed skin and pink lips in the faint glow of the cabin light in the dead of night. </p><p>He rubs himself raw until he draws blood, small pricks washed away by the droplets of water from the shower. Patton bites back the hiss of pain when he has to rub himself down with soap and wash it off again, the shampoo and conditioner following afterwards. With his eyes closed and the tension easing in his shoulders, he wonders what Remus meant when he asked him if he was scared. He concludes with little thought, pushing down those familiar feeling as if they were a ghost of the past, Patton isn’t scared because there’s nothing to be afraid of. </p><p>He prays for guidance before bed but a memory echoes in his dreams, a phantom of a boy.</p><p>
  <em> (“You don’t have to be afraid of this, Pat.”) </em>
</p>
<hr/><p>The phone rings, startling Patton awake from his stupor. The weight of his body feels as if he’s been dragged down into the water and he’s exhausted from tossing and turning but he manages to find the strength to pull his glasses onto his face and answer the phone.</p><p>“I’m outside your door,” It’s Janus and he can’t help but smile. “Get out of bed and let me in, dear.”</p><p>The line goes dead and Patton lets himself simmer in his thoughts for a moment, trying to blink away the tiredness before he finds his feet. Pulling out jeans and a t-shirt to make an effort, Patton takes about ten minutes to get to the door and that’s only because the doorbell gets a throttling, coaxing Patton to pick up the pace.</p><p>“Finally, I thought you’d fallen on the way to the door or something.” Janus smiles nonetheless, though it’s strained and his one good eye is searching him for any sign of the strange behaviour he exhibited last night. Patton doesn’t want to focus on that but he expects Janus will have questions so he steps aside, lets the man in and offers to make coffee.</p><p>The conversation starts out pleasant enough, Janus goes through his hectic morning at the supermarket and it’s only now that Patton realises it’s past twelve in the afternoon, a time he’d often be up long before and a pang of guilt hits him. Even so, he smiles through the chatter and nods where appropriate, trying not to let himself get caught up in the spiral of thoughts that start with his poor sleep causing him to waste away the day and finding himself back at <em> Remus</em>. The man was a plague on his mind and it must show, Janus snaps his fingers in front of his face.</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>“You’re making your Remus face again,” Janus leans back into the sofa, grasping the mug in both hands again, “What’s on your mind?”</p><p>“I don’t have a Remus face,” Patton says, exasperated but Janus’ raised eyebrow would prove otherwise. It wouldn’t be a surprise to know he did have a facial expression torn between annoyance and exhaustion where Remus was concerned. </p><p>“Talk to me, Pat; you’ve been acting weird ever since you met him and last night was <em> different </em>.”</p><p>The concern is touching and the softness of Janus’ sharp and angular face is comforting; the man had a reputation for being sneaky and manipulative to get what he wanted but with Patton, he held a fondness that was reciprocated. They showed each other the kindness they had needed, friends who supported one another without question and knew each other inside out. He couldn’t imagine a life without Janus in it, it’s a wonder there was a time that he didn’t know him at all.</p><p>“I talked with Remus at the bar and he got to me,” Patton felt the gaze on him narrow, scolding without the need for words and it makes him feel like a child. “We just don’t get along, we’re too different; he acts so carefree and lives his life without thinking of consequences and he doesn’t<em> care </em>about anyone’s feelings or opinions. I don’t understand him, I don’t understand why he gets under my skin and how he thinks he can read me as if he knows anything about me.”</p><p>“You don’t know him either,” Janus reminds him, it’s true but he<em> tried</em>. “I don’t think that’s enough to spiral you into a panic attack though, Patton…”</p><p>True, that wasn’t what had pushed him over the edge and into a panicked state of mind. He can feel his face warm, the memory of Remus’ hot breath near his ear and the low tone of his voice playing in his head like a record stuck on a loop. </p><p>“I <em> think </em> he flirted with me,” Patton grimaces at how his insides tighten at the thought, “Like how he does with you and <em> everyone</em>, he got too close and I just--”</p><p>He thinks about a confident boy long ago, so long ago and his smile in the light of an old lamp. He remembers gentle hands and soft reassurance, quiet whispers in his ear that there was nothing to fear.</p><p>Patton doesn’t talk about it, smiling at Janus with a shrug, “I guess I was just uncomfortable.”</p><p>He isn’t sure if Janus buys his excuses. If the lull in the conversation was enough to arouse suspicions that Patton was hiding a skeleton in his closet that he refused to confront, Janus says nothing but that's the thing he loves about Janus because the man doesn’t push, even when he knows Patton is<em> lying</em>. </p><p>“I think you’d both get along if you<em> both </em>just listened,” Janus simply says.</p>
<hr/><p>Sunday comes much too slow and Patton is thankful for when it arrives because if anywhere makes him feel safe, it’s Church. The four walls hold him together and he feels whole and<em> right</em>, the shaken feeling that had trembled through his soul easing as he enters the house of God and makes the sign of the cross at the door.</p><p>Familiar faces line the pews and for a moment, he finds himself looking for ashen hair with streaks of grey and faded ink on tanned skin and there is reprieve because there would be no way that Remus would be found in a church. Knowing him, the man was likely an atheist who mocked believers for their faith and it takes everything in him to push back the thought because the last time he made assumptions about the man, he got himself spiralling into an anxiety attack. Granted, there was no way he’d spiral into another one when the artist was nowhere in sight and he was<em> safe </em>here, he was who he was<em> meant </em>to be. </p><p>Patton makes himself known, going through the small talk about the weather and the lives of the townsfolk with everyone who stops by him to say hello. He smiles bright and welcoming when Virgil comes in his Sunday best, though it falters when he catches the eye of Virgil’s father who tightens the grip on the pale boy’s shoulders, making a show of pushing him past Patton to the front of the church benches with an unnecessary amount of force.</p><p>He says hello to the Croft family as they enter close behind, tries to greet their son Logan who shows no interest in being at church and makes little effort to talk back to Patton beyond the blunt responses. Patton admires the boy’s intelligence and tenacity but he could never understand how to talk to him, though Janus claims he’s easy to talk to. He vowed in the back of his mind to try and make more of an effort with Logan Croft this year.</p><p>The organ player starts up music as the priest walks through the side door and everyone gets to their feet in perfect synchronicity. It warms Patton’s heart and his smile comes back when Father Picani nods in his direction, a reverend only a decade older than himself who had grown to be one of Patton’s greatest confidants and trusted friends. Everything appears to be looking up as mass begins, it’s as if the troubles of Friday were cleansed from his mind and it could be forgotten. </p><p>That is until the door to the church creaks, drawing the attention of disgruntled elders and curious children alike. It catches Patton’s attention too, turning his head to see who had arrived late only for his heart to fall into his stomach at the sight.</p><p>Remus Prince is<em> everywhere</em>, it seems even the devil can roam on holy ground.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. the fourth rosary bead</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As everyone stood for the first hymn, Patton was far too aware of his surroundings and even more so, he was conscious of the man standing in the pew behind him. It was difficult to concentrate on the words in the hymn book, the lyrics lost on him as his mind was elsewhere. Luckily, Mass was so ingrained into his very being that he knew when to sit down, could follow the basics without being present.</p><p>“Lord be with you,” Picani greeted them with a big smile, his eyes crinkling at the sides in a pleasant and warming way that made the man trustworthy and comfort to the community. When the church responded back in a chorus, “Let us pray.”</p><p>It was easier to calm his nerves when they got through the Gloria and opening prayer, leading right into the liturgy. It was always soothing to hear from the letters of Paul or a story taken from one of the four Gospels. The only time he found himself distracted from Picani’s teachings and the familiarity of mass was whenever Remus would cough into his fist behind him or the way he would tap out a beat with his feet on the back of the pew when everyone was seated, slowly working away at the thinning patience Patton was exhibiting for the sake of keeping the peace. </p><p>He had so many questions, Patton just couldn’t think of why Remus would come to Church. He’d always assumed the man would be the self-righteous atheist type, the ones that would belittle him for his faith and make out as if he was stupid for believing in a higher power. Now, Patton had no problem with atheists whatsoever or anyone of any religion for that matter but it was when there was fighting and arguing on either side, demeaning people and putting them down; that was one of the few things Patton couldn’t stand. </p><p>Yet, here he was and Remus didn’t even seem to be paying much attention as Picani read aloud to the Church. It was a ridiculous notion to entertain but his mind almost convinced him Remus was just here to wind him up, trying to find new ways to push Patton’s buttons and send him hurtling over the edge. The thought had him clenching the hymn book in his lap tightly, knuckles whitening.</p><p><em> Don’t be ridiculous</em>, Patton thought to himself, <em> it’s just surprising, that’s all. </em></p><p>Shifting so he could take a quick glance at the man behind him without being<em> too </em>suspicious, he watched as Remus was staring up at the ceiling, leaned back in the pew and sprawled out in the space he had there Just as he suspected, Remus wasn’t interested in the teachings of the Church. The man was just lazing around, eyes taking in the building and the occupants of each pew and<em> intruding </em>on his safe haven.</p><p>Patton frowned, though he turned his attention back to Reverend Picani to try and keep his focus where it was needed rather than giving it to Remus, whether the artist had realised Patton was staring or not.</p><p>Even so, Patton couldn’t help but think, <em> so why are you here? </em></p><hr/><p>“Now we exchange a sign of peace,” Picani’s voice echoed off the walls, resounding and encompassing. Everyone began to turn and shift in their seats, reaching around to grasp at hands and shake them in a sign of peace muttering words of peace and spirit back and forth to one another.</p><p>From across the aisle of the church, Patton smiled when he saw young Logan reaching across the pew to shake hands with Virgil. The two boys had a hard time communicating with other students at school, Virgil often finding himself being ostracised while Logan preferred his own company and yet, it appeared that Logan was interested in getting to know Virgil. That was a good sign, Patton had often encouraged Virgil to try to make friends and Logan would be a patient and understanding person it seemed, at least from what he’d interacted with the boy and going off information from Janus whenever the topic of students came up. </p><p>Teachers weren’t supposed to have favourites but it was pretty obvious Janus favoured Logan for his intelligence and eagerness to learn, admirable despite the complaints from other teachers that Logan would go out of his way to correct and argue any point he disagreed with. </p><p>As Patton shook hands with those near him, offering the sign of peace, he had almost missed how a hand shot out from behind him to linger just in his peripheral vision. Twisting his body around, Patton came face to face with Remus for the first time since the man sat down and the twist in his insides came back, coiling tight and his body heating up when the art teacher shot a lop-sided grin his way.</p><p>Hesitant, Patton took the man’s hand; “Peace be with you.”</p><p>“And with your spirit,” Remus responded, pulling Patton’s hand closer to him before shaking it. His hand was chilled, cool to touch compared to how warm Patton’s own hands were and he could feel the rough calluses of his fingers pressing against the back of his hand. Reaching out to steady himself on the back of the pew, Patton felt the rising tension between them again and had to bite down on his tongue.</p><p>This was a church, he couldn’t make a scene here and it was quicker to get this over and done with so he could flee without making a fuss, avoiding Remus altogether with prayers that the man wouldn’t show up again with his smile that was like looking into the jaws of a wolf or his unreadable, dark eyes that made shivers run through his body as if a winter breeze had blown through the building. It made Patton feel powerless, the lost sheep lured from the flock to be devoured by a hungry wolf, especially when Remus looked at him with such an expression.</p><p>
  <em> (An echo, a low whisper in his ear; “Scared of something?”) </em>
</p><p>Their hands clasped around one another for what felt like an eternity, though it had been a few seconds at best. A few seconds too long, Patton withdrew his hand quickly as if he had been burned before turning in his seat to face the front again, trying to ignore the burning in his cheeks. He’d never understand why Remus made him feel so weak, so powerless under his gaze and Patton could only put it down to fear and distrust.</p><p>Janus trusted him though, everyone else seemed to like Remus well enough and if they didn’t, they bit their tongue and kept it to dirty looks and harsh whispers, gossiping behind his back. Patton wondered where he stood, he didn’t<em> hate </em> Remus - hate was an ugly word - but he didn’t<em> like </em>him either. A strange grey area that Patton couldn’t figure out how to navigate, no man’s land. </p><p>Picani called for communion, drawing Patton out of his thoughts as each person lined up to take the body and blood of Christ. He could feel the weight of eyes on him, the looming shadow of Remus casting over his own as it engulfed it. </p><p><em> Dear Lord, </em> Patton prayed in his own mind, <em> forgive me and guide me through this. </em></p><hr/><p>“Go in Peace,” the dismissal of the assembly meaning mass had come to an end.</p><p>Following up was the synchronised response, “Lord be with you,” before everyone began to shuffle and chatter amongst themselves, Picani coming down from the altar stairs to bid people goodbye or entertain them with small talk before they left. </p><p>Patton didn’t look back, making a bee-line for the reverend so he wouldn’t be tempted to ask questions or find himself being dragged into a conversation with Remus. He felt his nerves soothe at the smile on Picani’s face when the man caught sight of him coming over, meeting Patton halfway to shake his hand and pull him into a one-armed hug.</p><p>“That was a lovely service, Father.”</p><p>Picani laughed, pulling away to pat Patton’s hand where it was clasped in his other one, “You can call me Emile after services, Patton, we’ve talked about this but thank you; I think if the homily had gone on any longer, the Croft’s boy would have interrupted and called me out.”</p><p>Patton found himself chuckling, playing with the edge of his grey cardigan when Emile let go of his hand. He glanced over his shoulder, watching the Croft family leave with Logan in tow, head in the book he’d brought with him; “Logan is a funny one, good kid though.”</p><p>“Oh, I’m sure,” Emile nodded with a smile, never one to say a bad word about anyone. Nodding his head in the direction of the door where Remus was gazing off into space, least that’s what it looked like, “That’s the newcomer, right? I’ve heard the chatter and gossip, hard to miss when something exciting happens in our little town, hm?”</p><p>Patton grimaced, he was sick of talking about Remus and the look on his face didn’t go unnoticed when he turned to look at the man over his shoulder. He just hoped Emile wouldn’t say anything as they both kept their eyes on the brunette, “Exciting isn’t how I’d describe him but <em> sure</em>, he’s the newcomer, Remus Prince.”</p><p>“Prince?” Emile looked over at Patton again, “You mean like Reverend Prince, the man before me? He had children, didn’t he?” </p><p>That was news to Patton, though he didn’t remember much of his younger years when they felt so distant now. He could remember Reverend Prince, a taut and disciplined man and his wife was a sweet, soft-spoken woman or if he had children but the man had gone into retirement about three years ago before Emile had taken his place as the reverend.</p><p>Patton responded with a shrug, “I don’t remember very well, it was so long ago for me and I have trouble recalling things that far back after the accident.” He didn’t want to think about the accident either, he’d worked hard to get behind the wheel again. </p><p>Emile gave him a sympathetic smile, though it never felt too pitying coming from him compared to everyone else when the accident was brought up in conversation, looking past him afterwards to watch Remus get up to leave, “Oh, what a shame; I’ll have to catch him next time.”</p><p>Pressing his lips into a thin line, Patton had been watching Remus and it didn’t escape him that the man had his eyes on Virgil and his family. The art teacher had only gotten out of his seat once they were leaving, following two steps behind with long strides to keep up. God, he hoped Remus wasn’t going to try and do something<em> stupid</em>, he should probably intervene. </p><p>“I should be going myself but it was nice talking with you, Emile!” Patton smiled, giving the reverend a quick hug that could have knocked the wind out of the man before power-walking his way up the aisle of the church, swinging the door open with eyes frantic looking for Remus. </p><p>He didn’t have to look far, rounding the corner to the parking lot and backing up afterwards to keep out of sight, leaning forward enough to glimpse the scene as it unfolded. Remus stood tall, making himself look larger than life with a determined strength in his eyes and steel in his voice, unwavering as he introduced himself to Virgil’s father, Homer Storme with a firm handshake. </p><p>Patton wished he could hear the words exchanged between them but there was too much chatter coming from the open doors of the church to make everything out but what he did know was that Remus’ tone was matched with Homer’s own, a vague threat underlying both men’s formal greetings and small talk. He wondered if Virgil had let something slip to Remus the same way he had with Patton, not that it mattered because the boy would never come forward with the truth. Not yet, anyhow, Patton hoped one day. </p><p>Maybe he’d be able to do more to help then, though it was nice to receive a reminder there were worse people than Remus in this town. It made the art teacher more likeable, especially with the wicked grin he sent Homer’s way.</p><p><em> So he isn’t all bad</em>, Patton smiled to himself as he watched Homer push and shove past Remus, steering Virgil towards the car while his wife quietly apologised to the teacher as she followed close behind.</p><hr/><p>Remus was left standing in the parking lot when Patton had wandered over to stand on his right, the two watching in silence as the Storme family drove away. The man cast his eyes on Patton, a curious expression and no doubt he was wondering why Patton was standing around rather than talking to the good people of his church, Patton was wondering the same thing if he was being honest. </p><p>Even so, he offered a small and uncertain smile in return before looking back out to see the license plate of the car fade over the horizon and around the street corner. Patton decided to fill the silence, lest their tension return.</p><p>“I don’t like to say I hate people,” he started, playing with the cuff of his cardigan sleeve as he spoke, “I think I can make an exception for Homer.”</p><p>That got a laugh out of Remus, hearty and caught off guard. It was likely to draw attention to them, standing in the middle of the parking lot with Remus’ loud laughter bringing a pink to Patton’s cheeks and they’d talk. He didn’t want that, the church was nice and accommodating but Patton would be a liar if he denied the existence of gossip among the housewives and their little conservative families.</p><p>That was the last thing Patton needed.</p><p>Even so, he didn’t move away and just let himself<em> hear </em> Remus’ laugh for the first time. It was a <em> real </em>laugh too, shaking Remus’ entire body with tremors and building up into a crescendo as the man wiped away tears forming at the corner of his eyes. It was nice, it sounded<em> human </em>and it made him feel rather guilty about comparing Remus to the devil.</p><p>“Oh man, I didn’t know you had it in you but <em> that </em> was a good one,” once Remus regained composure, he flashed a wide smile Patton’s way, “You’re right though, he’s a <em> bastard </em> and forget any rumours about Homer being blind, his wife would be better off being blind herself having to look at his face every day.”</p><p>“Was that a reference to ancient Greek literature?” Patton raised an eyebrow, it often threw him that Remus was more intelligent than he let on with his appearance and crude humour. “No wonder you get along with Janus.”</p><p>“You didn’t think I was just another washed-up artist, did you?” Remus teased, though it felt friendly this time and it was a good start. “Give me more credit, Padre. There is more to me than a sweet ride and a nice ass.”</p><p>Patton shuffled on the spot at the last comment, trying to resist the urge to drag his eyes down Remus’ body for<em> whatever reason </em>he felt the need. Must be a psychological trick like when you tell someone not to do something and they feel the need to go ahead and do it anyway, that<em> must </em>be it. Instead, he looked around the car park and hoped Remus wouldn’t notice his discomfort.</p><p>No such luck, Remus frowned, “Oh right, you’re super uncomfortable with the flirting and all that shit.” He shrugged, patting down his jacket until he found the box of cigarettes, the lighter neatly tucked inside. “Sorry about that or whatever, I forget how uptight it is down south about sex and the gay thing. You’d think they’d leave us alone and let us get on with it, you know?”</p><p>That made Patton’s head snap upwards, staring bewildered at Remus as if he’d just threatened to kill all the puppies in the neighbourhood or set fire to the nearby general hospital. He was sure he’d heard him right.</p><p><em> Gay, </em> Patton felt that twist in his insides and his head go dizzy, <em> he just presumed I was gay? </em></p><p>“Did you just say I was gay?” Patton pressed a hand to his chest, hoping his voice wouldn't crack or give away the panic. He felt his chest tightening, blood boiling and he couldn’t help the wavering in his voice, “I’m not <em> gay!</em>” </p><p>Remus raised an eyebrow at that, disbelief in those dark eyes as if Patton was lying to him, “You’re not?”</p><p>“No!” Patton snapped, face going from tickled pink to a rage-induced red, frustration and anger boiling his blood and thundered in his ears like an oncoming storm, “I can’t believe you’d think that, where would you get an idea like <em> that?</em>”</p><p>Now it was Remus’ turn to take offence, which Patton should have seen coming. His tone was harsh when he heard it out loud and part of him wanted to take it back and explain that he didn’t<em> disapprove </em>of gay people but that Patton himself being gay was a <em> ridiculous </em>thing to suggest. </p><p>“Look, if you’re not gay, that’s fucking fine but don’t act as if it’s the worst thing in the world to be mistaken for!” </p><p>Patton clenched his fists at his side, his body shaking at the arms with anger, “I’m not but you can’t just go around making assumptions about people, especially ones like that! You could send the wrong messages to people and the last thing I want is people getting the wrong idea about me!”</p><p>Curling his lips into a sneer, stepping into Patton’s space as he had done so on Friday night, too close that he could see the light in Remus’ eyes and feel his warm breath on his skin, “You looked like you were enjoying being up close and personal with me on Friday until you realised what it meant for that precious image you got going for you, <em> Chaplain</em>.”</p><p>If Remus had cornered Patton on Friday, he’d gone and truly trapped him here. Anything Patton said would only dig a deeper grave for himself but his voice had escaped him before he could stop it; “Will you just <em> shut up</em>?!”</p><p>Remus was taken aback, looking around for the moment to find people staring at them before they made themselves scarce when they realised they’d been caught watching the scene playing out in the car park. Only Patton could be ashamed of what was going on though, eyes watering at how foolish he must look to have been pushed over the edge and lose his temper outside the<em> church </em>of all places.</p><p>“I don’t have to put up with<em> your </em>guilt,” Remus sneered, flicking ash and cinders at his feet, the glow scattering to the wind as a breeze picked up. “Get that crucifix out of your ass, it’d do you a world of good.” </p><p>Patton tried to keep it together, long after Remus had left him standing there with no evidence they’d even spoken but the memory and the discarded cigarette at his feet. Reaching down, he picked up the half-smoked cigarette and crumpled it in his hands, as if it’d make him feel better to destroy it. </p><p>He didn’t feel better, Patton knew it wouldn’t change a thing because the guilt and shame weighed heavy on his heart, soul and mind. </p><p>The shame of knowing that Remus was<em> right</em>.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>- Homer Storme is named after the poet, Homer, whose work was the model for Virgil's own. Hence the name choosing for Virgil's father in this, even if he's a minor character.</p><p>- Yes, I am referencing Crofter's Jam with Logan's family name, albeit in a subtle way.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. the fifth rosary bead</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Patton was fighting an uphill battle with his guilt and for the first time, he was thinking he just might lose. He’d done everything he could to disguise his shame and most days, he thought he’d done well enough but ever since Remus had called him out, he wondered if it was time to give in, having grown weary and worn from the heavy load on his back.</p><p>He wasn’t ready though, so he’d spent the last week avoiding Remus throughout the school days. Patton would check corners and avoid the faculty break room like the plague, going as far as shutting himself away in the four walls of the school chapel. Shame had become an old friend, it had tied a weight around his ankle and pulled him under the waters and now, he was too afraid to swim upwards for air, reinforcing the feeling of shame. Maybe if he spent more time trying to pinpoint<em> why </em>he felt ashamed, he’d be able to ask the right questions and learn to accept himself but that would admit Remus being right, something Patton wasn’t going to do. It was easier to repress it, always go with what you know, his mother always said. </p><p>Now, it was just a matter of keeping people at arm's length to prevent further questions. This meant avoiding Janus too which had good and bad points because, on one hand, Janus didn't ask too many questions right away but on the other hand, Janus didn't need to ask questions because he just<em> knew </em>how to get it out of Patton.</p><p>Even so, it didn't excuse Patton ignoring his best friend. If anything, it just made him feel worse because he knew Janus would never hate him for something like<em> that </em>but he could barely admit it to himself without feeling the bile rise up. It would be impossible to admit it openly to Janus. </p><p>The guilt planted itself like a seed and after years of cultivating, it had grown intrusive and parasitic; Patton was merely the hollow host of his own shortcomings and shame, grown comfortable in his wallowing. It's what made it so easy to pretend he wasn't questioning his entire life because of one man. </p><p>It's what made it so easy to look Janus in the eye and say “I’m going to take lunch in the chapel, I’ve got to start organising things for Christmas.”</p><p>“It’s October, Patton.” Janus frowned, his arms crossing over his chest, “You can’t be serious.”</p><p>“I’m very serious!” Patton laughed it off, though he could feel the man’s eyes boring into him demanding some sort of explanation for blowing off lunch <em> twice </em> this week, “You know how fast the months go by, it’s as if there aren't enough hours in the day!”</p><p>He managed to get one foot in the chapel, slipping inside as he made a promise to see Janus later, though he never said when later would be. Patton could already hear Janus sighing on the other side of the heavy wooden doors, guilt tugging at his heartstrings at the idea of disappointing his best friends<em> again</em>. Sometimes, he envied Remus and his ability to just dismiss people’s opinions of him. Maybe if he lived like that, he’d be able to be happy but deep down, Patton knew he couldn’t live a life like that.</p><p>He’d lived so long with guilt, the idea of letting go of the anchor that was threatening to drown him under the weight of his own shame was too much to bear. He tried to ignore the small voice on the other side, blocking out the footsteps as they padded their way from the chapel and down the hallway.</p><p>He’d make it up to Janus another time. </p><hr/><p>When you can’t fix your own problems, just fix somebody else's life instead. Patton could write a help book on it alone, he compulsively lived by the idea. He knows he shouldn’t, it’s not the healthy way to cope with one’s problems and if Janus knew he was putting things off to avoid his own issues, there would be a whole spiel and PowerPoint about self-care and mental health and god knows what else, Patton didn’t want to hear any of it. </p><p>So when Virgil walked through those chapel doors, making himself known as he shouted into the empty room before peering into his office, Patton welcomed the familiar distraction. Every time he saw Virgil, he couldn’t help but smile and marvel at how Virgil had grown in the last year when it came to working on himself. In his first year, Virgil would throw insult after insult at Patton in an effort to drive him away when it was clear that Virgil was in a bad place but seeing him now, you might say Patton felt like a proud dad.</p><p>He’d be a better dad than Homer anyhow, anyone could be better than him.</p><p>“Virgil!” Patton spun around in his chair to face the boy standing in his office doorway, gesturing for him to sit down on a spare chair, “It’s lovely to see you again; would you like a drink or a biscuit?”</p><p>He wasn’t giving Virgil much of a choice, already reaching for the tin he kept tucked away at the back of his desk. The boy relented when presented with an open tin, taking out one of the cookies Patton had made the other day. Patton knew he shouldn’t have favourites but he had a soft spot for Virgil, he saw him as a surrogate son and he tried to be the best role model Virgil could have. </p><p>“Thanks, Mr Hart--”</p><p>“Now, what have I told you about being so formal, kiddo?” Patton grinned, putting the tin back on the desk, “You can just call me Patton; now what brings you to my neck of the woods?”</p><p>Silence fell over the room, Virgil anxiously picking at invisible lint on his uniform and his leg bouncing up and down as if it would delay the inevitable. The kid had always been slow to talk about his feelings, once he’d told Patton how he didn’t like depending on other people and it was clear the reason for that was the horrible letdown that was his father, though Patton kept that part to himself. </p><p>Trying to coax him, “If you don’t tell me what’s wrong, I can’t help.”</p><p>Virgil let out a groan, sinking into his chair and staring up at the ceiling as he spoke, “You know that Logan Croft? The weird, tall nerd with the glasses?” </p><p>Patton frowned, Virgil should know better to insult someone but his body language was tense, anxious as he refused to look Patton in the eye, staring at the ceiling or anywhere else in the room that caught his interest. Instead of scolding him, Patton asked him to continue. </p><p>“He’s hanging around me a lot, trying to talk to me and shit,” Virgil rolled his eyes when Patton told him off for his language, “I think he’s trying to be my friend?”</p><p>“That’s great, Virgil!” Patton exclaimed, he almost jumped out of his seat from pure joy. There was nothing bad about making friends and Virgil could use a few friends his own age, especially ones who’d be able to ground him during moments of panic. Logan was intelligent too, a clever wit to him that Patton was sure Virgil could appreciate and they would be a good compliment to one another. </p><p>“Is it though?” Virgil pulled his legs onto the chair, hugging them close to his chest, “What if he ends up thinking I’m weird or miserable to be around? What if he’s just doing this because someone told him to?” </p><p>“Virgil--”</p><p>“It’s not as if I’ve got anything to offer him,” Virgil couldn’t stop himself, his voice getting higher and his words spewing out faster as he went on, “He’s smart and got really good grades, he’d just laugh at me when he realises I’m just this dumbass with his stupid art and his stupid emo music--”</p><p>Patton cut him off, putting a cookie in his face to catch him off guard. He smiled when Virgil took the cookie to chew on rather than his nails, thankful he’d managed to put a quick stop to that before it spiralled into a full-blown panic attack.</p><p>“Virgil, I know making friends has always been difficult for you but I don’t think Logan is going to laugh at you,” Patton leaned back in his chair, setting his hands in his lap, “He seems like a nice young man and you should give it a chance; you might find that the two of you click really well.”</p><p>"Mm, I guess so…" </p><p>Patton perked up at the sign of Virgil’s defeat, the young boy throwing his arms up, “How did you two end up talking?”</p><p>“Oh, uh…” Virgil trailed off, scratching at his chin as he smiled softly to himself. It was a rare sight to see, Logan must have made a real impression on Virgil to get him to smile like that, “We’re in the same Maths class together, he sits behind me and I said something dumb or whatever, it wasn’t that funny but it made him laugh. I don’t know, he thought it was clever and I guess we just kept talking after that.”</p><p>“See?” Patton smiled, pushing down the thought that the smile on Virgil’s face was reserved for Logan alone and how the whole thing felt familiar to him. Part of him wondered if there was something else he and Virgil had in common but he didn’t dare think further on it, he wasn’t ready to confront the reality of the situation. “I think you and Logan will get along just fine.”</p><p>Virgil nibbled away at his biscuit, giving Patton nothing more than a shrug in response. It was clear that Patton wasn’t getting anything else out of him but he was fine with that. Sometimes, it was just nice to have Virgil around and chatter idly, anything to make them both feel less alone with their thoughts. </p><p>It’s why Patton valued these small talks and little visits during the school year, he hoped Virgil knew just how much they meant to him and today, he’d needed the distraction more than anything else. He only wished he had something like this when he was younger, he wished it got any easier to ask for help but Patton found it only got harder with age, it was no easier now than it had been thirty years ago and it wasn’t as if there weren’t people for Patton to reach out to.</p><p>He had so many people willing to help him; his parents were a phone call or an hour’s drive away, Janus was always there for him and tried to help in the best way he knew and there was Father Picani who always had wise words of wisdom to guide him on the right path. </p><p>It meant telling everyone though and it meant admitting it to himself whole-heartedly that<em> that </em>was a part of him, no matter how hard he prayed for it to leave him. It was just easier to keep it to himself and suffer in silence, bearing this cross alone.</p><hr/><p>The day had been easily avoided, there was little incident to speak of and the highlight of the whole day had been Virgil. Beyond that, Patton had successfully evaded everyone. </p><p>As he fiddled with his keys in the door lock, there was a sense of relief that washed over him, though as soon as he stepped over the threshold of his home, he could feel the quietness creep into his bones. Patton really ought to consider getting a dog, surely he could accommodate one. </p><p>At the very least, it'd be nice to have someone to come home to. Patton couldn't help but feel his house was too big for just one person, too clean for someone who prided himself on being so involved with the community. It didn't help that he spent far too much time alone here, reading or doing work or watching the Office for the millionth time until his eyes were sore. It wasn't the idyllic social life he always imagined for himself, especially not when he had little excuse to fall back on. </p><p>Patton was scared though, that was the truth of it all but it was a ridiculous feeling. Nobody could<em> know </em>just from his house and belongings, it was such a silly thought. </p><p>If they were going to know anything about<em> that</em>, it'd be from his jittery behaviour. It's how Remus picked up on it so fast. Patton tried to forget about him, the way he sneered at him and cut through his<em> soul </em>with words as sharp as knives. </p><p>Remus Prince had a lingering effect on Patton, for better or for worse and it made his stomach twist in knots out of fear, out of shame, out of curiosity. It was as if the man <em>knew</em> him, more intimately than any saviour or saint ever could. </p><p>As if all Remus had to do was look into his eyes and see the scattered puzzle that made up Patton Hart and instead of working on the edge pieces to build Patton's foundations, he'd gone straight for the middle to work outwards. </p><p>Patton found himself lost in thought, fork tapping against his plate and twirling in his carbonara. He couldn't focus on the episode of Parks and Recs, his thoughts jumbled and straying away from the comedic masterpiece. He couldn't help but wonder if Remus<em> did </em>know him and he just couldn't remember, even Picani recognised something about Remus enough to question it. </p><p>It couldn't hurt to check. He got up, setting his half-eaten meal on the coffee table before making his way up the stairs. Patton was a sentimentalist at heart, he never threw out anything he thought held value to him. Even after the accident, he kept everything in hopes that it'd help him fill in the foggy gaps that lingered in his mind. </p><p>Janus often joked how Patton didn't have skeletons in his closet just because of the clutter in there. Maybe the clutter was the bones of his skeletons though, maybe they held answers. One he wasn't sure he wanted in the first place. </p><p>It didn't take long to find the box with his high school belongings, his mother's neat cursive writing sticking out like a sore thumb. Patton dragged it out from the back and lifted it onto his bed, trying not to get distracted by the many memories hidden inside when he was looking for something in particular. </p><p>"Here it is!" Patton held up an old yearbook, chuckling at the few worn and frayed pages. He tucked it under his arm, making his way back downstairs to finish his dinner while the book was balanced on the arm of the couch. </p><p>There were so many photos, people he saw at church every Sunday who had kids now and those who he couldn't remember whatsoever that must have moved away. He even spotted himself on the football team in the athletic photos, remembering how much his father had stressed his role as a linebacker when they were working to get his memories back. </p><p>Flicking through the pages to the end where everyone's individual photos were, Patton was searching for one name in particular. </p><p>“Prince, Prince, Prince--”</p><p>It wasn't hard to find, there were only two people by the name of Prince in the school and looks alone was enough to give Picani's theory credit. One was definitely Remus, even without the name printed underneath to make it obvious. </p><p>A handsome enough face with wispy brown hair and stubble lining a 5 o'clock shadow, sullied only by the crook of a broken nose and a tooth gap that brought the look together in a strange, charming way only someone like Remus could pull off. It was the face of a young boy who looked like he got into far too much trouble and gave way too much lip. </p><p>It was rather jarring to see, Patton could barely believe it. Remus had gone to the same school as him, was likely born in this little town and yet, Remus never thought to mention it and if he had, he actively chose to keep it from Patton. Maybe he'd been waiting for Patton to mention it to him first, not knowing about his car accident a few years ago or maybe he just didn't remember Patton with his big round glasses, braces and chubby cheeks under the garb of the football team. </p><p>There were so many questions whirling around inside his head.</p><p>Next to a young Remus was the portrait photo of a man named Roman Prince. The two shared similar features, the wispy hair and sparkling eyes and strong jawline but Roman was<em> different</em>, even just as a photo. His hair was wild but pristine, face clean-shaven and unblemished. It was as if he was looking at a photo of royalty rather than an old classmate he couldn't remember. </p><p>Except he could remember, vague details that felt right with the name Roman Prince on the end of his tongue. The name melted there like milk and honey, sweet and subtle but hard to swallow. Patton couldn't place the importance but he knew Roman somehow.</p><p>Maybe it was time to talk to Remus.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I am so sorry this took so long! I know it doesn't have much going on right now but sometimes, you gotta have set up first!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. the sixth rosary bead</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>God would often test his followers, that's what the Bible taught Patton and that's why he thought Remus was his test. A bizarre test of willpower in the form of a man, a devil, who flaunted his sins as if they were medals of honour. Now, Patton felt as if he'd made a passing judgement that was not his to make. </p><p>First and foremost, Remus was a <em> person </em>and not a test. He had so harshly passed judgement that he had forgotten that the art teacher deserved the same respect and treatment he would treat any other. The golden rule was there for a reason and Patton ought to know better. If he was going to get the answers he sought, Patton needed to find the middle ground between him and Remus. </p><p>That's why he was making his way down the halls of the art department, pleasantly surprised to find that Janus hadn't sent him on a wild goose chase as he reached Remus' classroom, seeing him through the door window. </p><p>Janus had met his query with curious eyes, though it didn't come without a warning and the passive-aggressive attitude Janus was known for. He'd explain everything later, Patton had promised. Right now, Remus was the man he needed to talk to, lest he loses his nerve to do so. </p><p>Taking a deep breath, Patton knocked and pushed open the door with a <em> creak</em>, shutting it behind him once he stepped inside. Remus didn't look up from his phone to greet him, the camera open so he could take photographs of the mural decorating the back wall. </p><p>It wasn't finished yet if the tarp on the floor was anything to go by but it was a masterpiece in the making. Between Remus' experience in the art world and Virgil's persistence, the two were weaving together colours and shapes as if they were threading together life itself. </p><p>It was a mesmerising piece for something as simple as the emblem of the school, a shield with a morning star and a sword behind it crossing over. The weapons piercing the head and tail of a snake at the bottom. It was always a rather ghastly emblem in Patton's eyes but Remus and Virgil had managed to make it<em> work </em>in a way that even Patton could appreciate. </p><p>He found himself stood side by side with the dark-haired man, staring up at the mural to take it all in. </p><p>"It looks amazing so far," Patton didn't even realise he'd started talking. "You and Virgil have been working hard." </p><p>Remus let out a grunt of acknowledgement, taking another photo before scrolling through his gallery. </p><p>"That isn't to say you don't always work hard," Patton frowned, he'd never heard Remus be quiet for a second and it was rather insulting to be ignored. He reminded himself he wasn't here to argue, "It looks great though, truly, it brightens up the room!" </p><p>The silence fell on them like a crashing wave, dragging Patton under and instead of swimming upwards, Patton just thrashed. Words spewed out of him, rambling about colour and the technique or how thankful he was that Virgil had someone to encourage his artistic talent. He was running out of things to talk about, playing anxiously with the sleeve of his cardigan as he trailed off when he saw Remus wasn't even looking at him. </p><p>"So, yeah, it looks great. You did great."</p><p>Remus scrolled through his phone, deleting photos that were out of focus or didn't capture the progress as he wanted it. Patton was starting to think this was a lost cause and his confidence was waning, enough so that he mumbled a quick excuse to turn on his heel. Anything to get out of the awkward and tense situation he'd dropped himself in. </p><p>"Why did you come here?" </p><p>Patton kept his hand on the door handle, looking over at Remus with bewilderment that the man had chosen<em> now </em>to initiate a conversation. </p><p>"Pardon?" Patton stuttered, thinking he may have misheard him. </p><p>"I asked you why you came here," Remus set his phone down, resting against the table and stared at Patton with those heavy-lidded green eyes, "We have a screaming match, you avoid me and everyone else for weeks and then you just waltz into my classroom as if we're friends?" </p><p>"I--" Patton rubbed at his arms, finding his eyes wandering about the room as if it would distract from the moment. </p><p>"If you've got nothing to say, get out; I'm not putting up with your weird fucking back and forth. It's enough to make me want to vomit." </p><p>"I wanted to apologise," Patton started slowly, frantic as Remus began to shift. His words must have caught the artist's interest because Remus let his hand hover over his phone, feet rooted to the burgundy tile flooring, "I was hoping we could talk about something important." </p><p>"If you want me to keep your little secret quiet or whatever--" </p><p>"No!" The yell made Patton recoil when he realised it was his own voice. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. </p><p>"It's not about that really or maybe it is, I just--" he rubbed at his eyes under his glasses, knocking the frames askew, "It's important so can we just talk after school is out?" </p><p>There was a spark of curiosity in those green eyes, Remus intrigued by Patton's desperation for answers and the insistence at which he was pushing for Remus to listen. </p><p>"Sure," Remus shrugged as he picked his phone back up from where it had been set down on the table, "You want to talk, we'll talk." </p><p>Patton was surprised by how easy that was, he hadn't even apologised to Remus properly. If anything, it was rather half-assed and lacklustre as far as apologies went but he wasn't going to point that out. </p><p>"Wait, really?" </p><p>"Really," Remus weaved through the labyrinth of desks and he held out his unlocked mobile to the chaplain. "On my terms."</p><p>Patton took the phone with a frown knitting his eyebrows together, staring at the empty contacts form open on the device. He was reluctant but he needed to talk with Remus so if that meant braving the devilish man's mind games to get them, he'd play along. </p><p>"What time should I expect you?" Patton asked, handing the phone back once he'd put his number in, "Right after work? An hour or so after?" </p><p>"I'll call you when I call you," Remus said nonchalantly, putting both hands on the other's shoulders and turning Patton around to push him towards the door. "I have a class soon, it's time for you to get lost." </p><p>"Wait--" </p><p>"<em> Later</em>," Remus said, voice firm and commanding in a way that made Patton clamp his mouth shut. He supposed Remus had a point for once, the students came first and it'd be rude to take up their time with his cumbersome issues. Besides, it'd be better to have this conversation somewhere quieter where nobody would intrude or find them together. </p><p>Patton felt a little guilty for that last thought, he ought to apologise to Remus properly. He'd been giving the man a hard time lately and it wasn't very saintly of him to do so, it was just hard to be around the man for more than a minute without the two of them finding new ways to argue and offend one another. </p><p>Stumbling out of the door and finding his feet, Patton headed back towards the chapel building. He could work on what he wanted to say for later in his office. </p><hr/><p>It was nearing 11 PM, the clock ticking in the background and the time displayed on his phone taunting him. </p><p>Patton was embarrassed by how many times he'd checked his phone in the past few hours, obsessed almost but he was desperate to get this over and done with. It wasn't on his priority list to have a heart-to-heart with Remus, he just wanted answers. </p><p>The small, condescending voice in the back of his head was telling him how he should have expected this. That someone like Remus couldn't be trusted to keep his word. </p><p>Trying to push back on that little voice, Patton could only feel the anxiety creeping up on him as each hour was wasted. Maybe he should have asked Remus for his number instead, just in case he'd forgotten or got caught up in something. </p><p><em> I bet he just asked for my number to get me to go away, </em>Patton thought as he paced back and forth. </p><p>There was a chance Janus would have Remus' number but that would mean explaining why he wanted it in the first place and he wasn't ready to acknowledge everything<em> yet</em>, not when he didn't have the answers he felt would slot everything into place. </p><p>That's when the ringtone startled Patton, an unknown number lighting up the screen. It felt like an air raid siren, the way it cut through Patton and the man scrambled to pick up and answer the phone, anything to get the noise to shut up so he could hear himself think. </p><p>"Hello, Patton speaking!" Patton answered, an automatic response but one he cursed himself for. </p><p>"You were eager to pick up," Remus' voice crackled through the line, his obnoxious tone heating up Patton's cheeks as he pictured that smug look on the art teacher's stupid, obnoxious face. "I'm outside." </p><p>Peering outside the window from behind the curtain, Patton tried to spot for any signs of Remus. </p><p>Asking as he couldn't see a thing in the dark, "What? Now?" </p><p>"Now or never," and the phone clicked, Remus hanging up and leaving Patton gawking at the screen for a few seconds. </p><p>His chest tightens and there is a heaviness in his bones, Patton can feel himself be dragged down with each step. It feels as if he's being weighed down by an anchor on either leg as he makes it out to the driveway, keys in hand and coat fluttering in the gentle breeze. Every step is a promise of knowledge but it's a promise that things will never go back to normal, that whatever he learns tonight might ruin everything he built to protect himself. </p><p>Even so, Patton makes his way down to the street where the green Chevrolet is parked by the curb. He presses his fingers against the cool metal as he walks around the side and eventually, with a deep breath, he climbs into the passenger seat. </p><p>Sitting there, illuminated in the glow of the radio, is Remus with a cigarette between his fingers hanging lazily out of the car window. His hair is wild, stuck up at all angles rather than how the man smooths down the mohawk for work and his green eyes look like the bottles of beer that are strewn on the back seats. </p><p>When those green eyes pierce into his own, Patton swallows and he tries his best to keep himself from feeling so overwhelmed and intimidated. </p><p>"You took your time," Remus stubs out his cigarette and flicks the end into an ashtray he's fashioned from one of the cup holders. "You ready to go then?" </p><p>He's not ready, he's never being ready for Remus. Patton nods though, despite the uncertainty trembling through his bones. </p><hr/><p>Patton has no idea where Remus plans to take them for this<em> talk</em>, he doesn't bother to ask either. It takes everything in his body, heart and soul to focus on his surroundings rather than the fact that he's not in control of the car. </p><p><em> Everything will be fine</em>, he tells himself, <em> it's just a little drive with the man who hates you and rightfully so after the scenes you've made, you sack of-- </em></p><p>"Roll down the window if you're car sick," Remus interrupts his self-deprecating thoughts, which is probably a good thing and he silently thanks Remus for it. </p><p>Patton isn't car sick but he rolls down his window anyway, watching the world blur past him and how the wind pushes through Remus' thick locks of hair, a look on his face that makes him wonder what the man is thinking with Patton being in his car. </p><p>The man was an absolute mystery to him, he seemed so carefree and despite his juvenile humour and way about getting what he wanted, Remus was intelligent and good with the kids. There were good traits there, Patton had<em> seen </em>them but every time he saw Remus, his stomach would twist into knots and his chest would burn up, a feeling of frustration and anger mixing together with a curiosity he couldn't satisfy into a dangerous blend. </p><p>That's why it was just easier to push those feelings down and remind himself that he had to be better, that's what his parents raised him to do and it's what the Lord would want of him. </p><p>The silence was getting to him now, that same old frustration tugging at him and annoyance poured into his tone as he spoke up, "Did you <em> have </em> to come to pick me up at such a late time?" </p><p>"I told you we'd do this on my terms, Chaplain," Remus smirked, the amusement in his voice bristling Patton and rubbing him the wrong way. His smile fell away though, "I don't owe you this, Hart."</p><p>Patton bit down on his tongue, biting back any retort that he might have had. He knew Remus didn't owe him this talk, his desperation for answers had brought him to the artist and he could have been turned away as easily as a single word. </p><p>"You showed up," Patton settled on instead, "That's what matters." </p><p>"As if I'd waste a golden opportunity to spend time with my favourite altar boy," Remus cackled, taking a turn at the end of the road. </p><p>Playing with the seat belt that held him down safely, anchoring him, Patton counts out the white lines painted on the road as he contemplates his next words. He doesn’t want to start an argument. </p><p>"Why are you like that with me?" </p><p>Remus keeps his eyes on the road, though one of his eyebrows quirk up at the question which Patton catches in the rearview mirror. </p><p>"Like what?" he asks as if they haven't been doing this song and dance since day one. "Make jokes?" </p><p>"No," Patton huffs, looking over at Remus, "The<em> thing </em>where you try to rile me up, trying to make me uncomfortable on purpose. You don't do that to anyone else." </p><p>"Maybe it's my way of pushing you out of your comfort zone you claim to love so much, Padre." </p><p>Now that was a throwback, enough to catch Patton off guard and make him chortle quietly to himself. As if the thought of Remus trying to<em> help </em>in some twisted, patronising way was the best joke he'd heard all year. </p><p>"I don't need anything like that from you." </p><p>Remus looks over at him as they come to a stop for the first set of traffic lights. The way those emerald eyes catch the light of the radio makes Patton's chest tighten when their gazes meet. </p><p>"If you didn't need it, you wouldn't be in my car." </p><p>Words catch in Patton's throat, a response trying to put itself together but before he can answer, Remus is snatching up his phone. He puts on his music loud, an old classic Queen track that drowns out Patton's ability to think. </p><p>He sighs instead, leaning against the car door with a slump and staring at the window. The reflection allows him to watch Remus tap along to the music, the scenery flickering behind him. </p><p><em> He has some taste at least, </em>Patton thinks. If he was going to be stuck in the car with Remus, the music made it bearable. </p><hr/><p>At one point during their little trip, the roads are clear and Remus picks up the pace. The man looks as if he's itching to let loose, to go faster and push the limits of his banged-up car. Patton is gripping his knees tightly, fingernails digging in and biting at his skin through the thin material of his slacks. </p><p>The contrast between them grows ever larger as if it's insane that someone as cautious and conventional as Patton could exist in the same space as someone as reckless and devil-may-care as Remus. Yet, here they were sitting in the same small car in this same small town. </p><p>Patton just wished he was a little more carefree and nonchalant right now or at the very least, he wished he knew where they were heading. That way, he could gauge how long he'd be stuck in the sputtering metal death trap that Remus called a car.</p><p>So caught up in his need for answers, Patton had forgotten how much he feared being in the passenger seat where he had no control whatsoever. </p><p>It had taken more than a year to get behind the wheel again and when he had managed to do so, he<em> had </em>to be the driver. That way, he was able to go as slow as he needed and take as many stops as he wanted to keep himself from becoming a bundle of nerves. Patton didn't want the control but he preferred it over a lack of control. </p><p>"Are we nearly there?" Patton asked, voice shrill and wavering. He felt as if his kneecaps might shatter and crumble to dust from how hard he was gripping them but it wasn't enough to deter him from doing it. </p><p>They came to a slow and steady pace and Patton doesn't know if Remus saw the sheer fear in his eyes as he remembered going through the front window of a car, blood and glass and smoke rising out of the hood. He feels sick, his stomach wants to revisit the lasagne he had for his dinner real bad right now. </p><p>As they come to a set of traffic lights, the red glow reminds Patton of sirens and ambulances, of<em> blood</em>. It doesn't take a genius to see that Patton is spiralling. </p><p>A hand reaches out, resting on his knee and it startles him. He follows the length of the arm and sees Remus there, feels the gentle squeeze to reassure him that<em> someone </em>is in control. </p><p>When the car starts up again, Remus makes a quick turn and parks on the side of the road, unbuckling his seat belt. </p><p>"Hey, Padre," Remus' voice was distant and muffled in the grand scheme of things but a few more times and he had Patton's attention, "I want you to focus on one thing and tell me everything you can about it, okay?" </p><p>Patton nodded, letting Remus rub small circles into the back of his hands. He looks around and finds himself focusing on the radio, naming the station and sounding out each letter. He takes in how it's scuffed around the corners and that the model doesn't match the car, as if it was replacing an older model. The more he talks, the calmer he begins to feel. </p><p>"Good, good…" Remus sighs, soft and relieved that a panic attack had been evaded this time, "Do you want me to start the car again or do you want to give it a minute?" </p><p>"Can I have a minute?" Patton asks, voice meek and embarrassed. He quickly pulls his hands away from Remus, a part of him burning up again with that dangerous mix of emotions. </p><p>"Sure," if it bothered Remus, he wouldn't have known. Instead, the two sit in silence for a bit listening to the next song in Remus' playlist. "Did you ever do choir in Church?" </p><p>It was a rather strange question to ask out of the blue, one that caught Patton off guard. It made him smile a little because even though he didn't remember, he had proof that he<em> had </em>sung in a choir once as a young man. </p><p>"Yes, I did choir; I've been told I did quite well."</p><p>"I can imagine, I bet you have a nice voice…" Remus mused aloud, looking calm and collected but lost in thought. He reached for his phone once more, extending the wire as far as it would go before handing the mobile over to Patton, "Here, pick a song." </p><p>Patton took the phone, raising an eyebrow as he looked through the various songs and bands that Remus listened to. Many were known for their explicit lyrics, far too explicit for Patton's tastes and there was no specific genre Remus appeared to favour. There was a bit of everything in here. </p><p>"I didn't take you for a My Chemical Romance fan," Patton laughed as he scrolled through a few of their songs, knowing a certain student who<em> loves </em>this band. "I didn't take you for Broadway either." </p><p>"You can blame Virgil for the emo music and as for the musicals," Remus' grinned, starting the car back up and pulling out into the road to continue their journey, "I always liked Broadway shows." </p><p>The impending doom about his existence was forgotten, Patton selected a song he knew. There was a soft spot for musicals that had happy endings like Into the Woods, especially when Remus had<em> plenty </em>of musicals that didn't end so well on his phone. </p><p>It was amusing though, watching Remus belt out at the top of his lungs and carry the tune for Agony. It was even more fun when Remus encouraged him to be the other prince, a wild grin tugging at his lips. </p><p>"Come on, Padre!" Remus lightly shoved Patton, quick to grab the steering wheel again before anyone could notice, "Sing with me!" </p><p>If anyone told Patton he'd be having the time of his life right after a panic attack with <em> Remus </em>of all people, he might have called in a doctor or asked if they were okay. The dread had subsided though, making way for a lighter feeling and this whole scenario felt like the most natural thing in the world. </p><p>The feeling of singing musical show tunes and songs over the top, the laughter that is too loud and this feeling of warmth in his chest as he looks over to watch Remus is so familiar. It is on the tip of his tongue, so close that he finds himself trail off just to watch Remus a little longer. </p><p>He doesn't get a chance to speak though, the car pulls up in a parking spot and the building of the school looms over them. It sends Patton in over his head, so many questions. </p><p>Patton expects Remus to say something, <em> anything </em>but instead, the man climbs out of the car and opens up the side door. He watches as Remus piles beer bottles into a beaten up rucksack that was under the seat, swinging it over his shoulder and shutting the door. Patton scrambles after him, panicking at the thought of being left behind. </p><p>Remus locks the car, looking over at Patton and making a <em>follow-me </em> gesture with his hand, "Come on, let's go." </p><p>"What are we doing here?" Patton says as he takes large strides to catch up with Remus and his stupidly long legs. "I mean, it's late and the gates will be locked…" </p><p>"To talk," Remus says as if it answered all of Patton's questions as if it made any sense to talk here of all places. "That's what you wanted right?" </p><p>"Yeah, of course, but why are we at the school, close to midnight too, when we can't even get in?" </p><p>That makes Remus laugh, shifting the weight of the bag onto both shoulders. He didn't bother answering Patton and instead, took the chaplain on a long, convoluted walk around the back end of the school grounds. The pace at which he walked was enough to leave Patton behind in the remnants of his shadow. </p><p>Patton could turn around right this second, end this ridiculous charade and call a taxi or have Janus pick him up. He could make a scene and demand his answers from Remus right this instant, dig his heels in and not take no for an answer. There was an infinite amount of possibilities for how this could go. </p><p>Yet, Patton follows Remus.</p><hr/><p>Remus brings them around the school until they find a gap in the fence, one that Patton wasn't aware of. It's something he should report on Monday, he thinks and before he can stop Remus, the man has disappeared through the gap. </p><p>Gripping the bars and peering into the dark to try and catch sight of Remus, he hisses out, "Are you mad? This is trespassing!" </p><p>Remus startles him, though the artist catches him before he can fall onto his ass in the most embarrassing fashion. Steadying Patton with a grin that was razor-sharp, "Live a little, get outside that comfort zone!"</p><p>"We could get arrested or lose our jobs or--" </p><p>"Or you could follow me," Remus interrupts, "and we could have that chat, your choice."</p><p>Taking a minute to weigh out his options, Patton reluctantly pushes his way through the gap in the bars with a creative stream of curses he thinks Janus would be proud of and allows himself to fall in line with Remus' footsteps. </p><p>The school grounds are deadly silent, nothing but the sound of their footsteps and Patton's heartbeat pounding in his ears. He feels very much like a stupid, reckless teenager skulking around after hours like this but a part of him deep down is a little excited, finding something like this thrilling. He isn't sure what part he should fear more, the fact that he's excited about trespassing or the trespassing itself. </p><p>"Over here," Remus calls out to him, leading Patton to one of the nooks in the building layout, just behind the Chapel. Remus points up to the roof, "Up we go." </p><p>Patton must look a sight, eyes wide as Remus gets onto one knee and cups his hands together. They were already trespassing, now they were going to<em> chill out </em>on the roof of the Chapel and if those beers in Remus' bag had a part to play, Patton felt as if he'd been thoroughly pushed and shoved out of his comfort zone. </p><p>"Are you brain dead?" Patton hisses low and quiet, "You don't think we're pushing it enough trespassing onto school grounds but now you're expecting me to climb buildings and sit on rooftops with you?" </p><p>"If you're wanting to talk, absolutely." </p><p>Making an exasperated sound and running his hands through the mess of curls, Patton knew he was going to give in. Stepping up to the plate and onto Remus' hands, he let the man hoist him upwards until he had climbed up onto the rooftop. </p><p>He was about to complain about doing something so dangerous until he saw the view, all the star lighting up the night sky. It was breathtaking up here, the highest he'd ever been from the ground and he wondered why he never took risks before if the rewards were this magnificent. </p><p>He doesn’t even hear Remus until the man slumps against him, the bag settling behind them so it doesn't tumble off the side. </p><p>When Patton looked over, he was surprised at how well the moon highlighted Remus' features, a slither of light framing that sharp jawline and reflecting off the green of his eyes. Growing warm, Patton moved over a few inches to keep them from touching. </p><p>Remus chuckled, rummaging through the rucksack now instead, "The view up here is great, isn't it?" </p><p>Nodding in agreement as he looked out over the horizon, taking in the stars and the moon above them. </p><p>"When I was a student here," Remus started, holding out a cold beer to Patton that he'd opened, "I would come up here a lot. The fences were a little easier to climb back when I was younger though." </p><p>"The joys of getting old," Patton mumbled, taking the beer reluctantly and taking a sip. It wasn't great but it'd ease his nerves, maybe that's why Remus was giving it to him. </p><p>"I could toast to that!" Remus said with a cackle, knocking their bottles together before he took a drink. </p><p>"Why did you never mention we went to school together?" Patton asked, pulling his knees up to his chest and taking another drink from his bottle. </p><p>"Would it have mattered if I did?" Remus looked over at him with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, as if he already knew the answer. "Would you have hated me any less?" </p><p>"I don't know, maybe?" Patton threw his arms up, sighing as he sprawled out a little more. "I don't hate you either, it's…" </p><p>He trailed off, uncertain how he wanted to continue. He'd worked so hard to keep so many secrets to his chest, each careful thread being pulled apart by Remus and his cutting words, those knowing eyes staring into the depths of his soul. No, Patton didn't hate Remus, it was closer to envy than hate. </p><p>Remus was a man who didn't feel ashamed to be true to himself, wearing his heart on his sleeve and grinning wickedly in the face of resistance. He charmed those who gave him a chance and dismissed anyone who spoke ill of him.</p><p>His life was his own whereas Patton had left his life in the hands of those around him. He was the property of his parents, his work, his community. He didn't feel like a single part of him didn't belong to someone else. </p><p>"It's complicated..." is what Patton settled on. </p><p>The two sat in silence for what felt like an eternity, passing small talk and collecting empty beer bottles. </p><p>The haze of inebriation fogged Patton's sense of judgement and subtlety, finding himself entranced by the flame of a lighter and the glow of Remus' cigarette. The way Remus' broad chest heaved and expired and the swirls of smoke passing through his lips. God, if the man wasn't tantalising in this light, looking like everything Patton shouldn't want and couldn't have. His very own forbidden fruit. </p><p>"You're staring, Padre," Remus caught his gaze and for once, Patton didn't look away. "Did you have anything else you wanted to talk about?" </p><p>"Tell me more about school," Patton said with curiosity, "Did I know you? Were we friends? Why did you leave town?" </p><p>"You got a lot of questions there," Remus chuckled, though his expression softened, "It's as if you don't remember anything, your memory getting that bad with old age?" </p><p>Patton frowned, picking at the threads of his coat, "I was in a car accident three years ago." </p><p>He could tell Remus was surprised, the soft<em> oh </em>that had escaped him but he didn't wait for the other man to say anything else and kept going, "I was diagnosed with retrograde amnesia and just like that, I lost my entire life. It took a good year and a half to start getting memories back but what I know of my school years is what my parents told me and what was in yearbooks." </p><p>"I didn't know," Remus took another deep drink, "I'm sorry you went through that." </p><p>"It's fine, I have you to fill in the gaps now." </p><p>"I guess so," Remus huffed in amusement, "We knew each other in passing, your family went to our church where my dad was the pastor and you were best friends with my brother." </p><p>"Roman Prince?" Patton asked, getting a nod from Remus. "I saw his name in an old yearbook and he feels <em> familiar </em>." </p><p>"You two were <em> real </em> familiar with one another."</p><p>"I have a feeling that this is going in a direction I'm not going to like," Patton grumbled. "Tell me anyway."</p><p>Remus handed another bottle over to Patton when he realised the one the chaplain had been nursing was empty, "You catch on quick; I think you two started hooking up after one of those Christian summer camps when we were in tenth grade or something. I can't give you the details, though Roman was pretty in love with you back then." </p><p>Patton couldn't fathom not remembering a man who was in love with him, a pit of guilt eating away at him. </p><p>"What happened to us?" </p><p>Remus glanced over at Patton, though continued his little tale as he tried to recall the details, "Roman wanted to come out to our parents. I tried to tell him not to but he was adamant they'd accept him." </p><p>"Lo and behold, the idiot got himself slapped around." Remus clenched the bottle tighter, "I think you turned him away when you found out, Roman didn't tell me everything. Kept crying over a big fight, not wanting to see him again or something like that. I think you were just scared just like how you are now." </p><p>"I don't know what's worse," Patton sighed, rubbing at his nose under his glasses before taking another drink, "The fact that I don't remember him beyond a few hazy memories or that I'm glad I don't remember because I think the guilt would crush me." </p><p>"You were both dumb kids, it happens." Remus shrugged, "After you had that fight and our dad was threatening conversion therapy, we sold a bunch of our belongings and bought my Chevrolet. Never looked back after that." </p><p>"Wow, you did all that for you and your brother and I can't even say <em> it </em> to myself out loud without feeling like total shit." </p><p>"You'll get there," Remus chuckled, blowing out smoke and leaning back on his hand with the cigarette in the other. "You took a big step tonight, even if I had to drag you out here to talk with me like this." </p><p>Patton raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean?" </p><p>Gesturing around them, careful not to smack Patton with his cigarette, "You're out here having a drink on the rooftop of our workplace with the guy you seem to hate. I'd say that's a pretty big step out of your comfort zone, Padre." </p><p>"I don't hate--" </p><p>"You don't hate me, I know!" Remus laughed, stubbing out his cigarette and smirking at the chaplain. "What are you feeling right now then? What do you think of me right here in this moment?" </p><p>Patton stared Remus down, letting himself relax in the man's presence. The alcohol helped loosen him up, no longer putting up walls to keep Remus out. If anything, he was eager to let Remus in. </p><p>"I think you're an absolute bastard," Patton decided on. </p><p>"Ouch, so insulting! I'm wounded!" Remus taunted, hand against his forehead and the other over his heart. </p><p>"I think you're crude and juvenile. You're a menace and you take far too much pleasure out of arguing with me." </p><p>Remus smiled as there was no bite to Patton's bark, moving closer to Patton so their fingertips touched and brushed against one another, "Careful there, Hart, you might hurt my feelings." </p><p>"You're reckless and you don't care about what others think, it's insensitive." Patton found himself moving closer too, voice growing quieter as he looked Remus in the eyes. "I think you're the devil." </p><p>"Anything else?" Remus whispered, leaning in enough to brush their lips together. He wasn't going to make the first move, Patton observed. He was giving Patton full control. </p><p>"I think I'd like to kiss you," Patton should have felt ashamed, a deep burning in his core but instead, he felt a weight had been lifted. "Can I do that, Remus?" </p><p>"You can if you want," Remus let his hand trail up Patton's arm, running up his neck until it settled at the nape. "Your move, Patton." </p><p>There was a time in a parking lot during the daytime where Patton saw a man with an unreadable expression, someone who managed to draw him in without question. There was a time he sat with a man who made crude jokes and riled him up. There was a man who had the artistic talent of a renaissance man. There was a time where a man who backed him up against the wall of a bar had made him<em> feel </em>so intensely that he spiralled.</p><p>There is a man who never calls him by his first name; a man who pushes and shoves Patton until he fights back like a cornered animal; a man who feels as if a demon trespassed on the holy ground just to tempt him into sin. </p><p>And by God, Patton is tempted. He yearns to touch Remus, to kiss him and pull on his ash brown hair until he can draw out unholy sounds that would put the church choir to shame. He wants to be led astray in this very moment. </p><p>Erasing the space between them, Patton kisses Remus in a way that could only be described as an act of confession. It's slow and calculated so he can memorise the way Remus<em> feels </em>against him. The warmth of his body searing through his clothes or the electricity that pulses through his nerves when Remus kisses back. He wants to memorise the sound Remus makes when Patton tugs on his hair or how the world feels so quiet except for the rapid sound of blood coursing through him as Remus nips at his lower lip. </p><p>Patton<em> wants </em>this, even if it's just the one time and the haze of alcohol represses the budding shame that threatens to ruin everything. The kiss is burning shame, frustration and anger. It's the need and desperation to break free from expectations. It's interest and intrigue, wanting to explore something new with someone who makes Patton a thrillseeker. </p><p>He doesn't stop taking from Remus until there is nothing left to take, pulling away to breathe and rest his head on Remus' shoulder, choking back a sob when a hand pushes back the curls stuck to his skin. </p><p>"I hate this," Patton mumbles into the thin jacket Remus was wearing. "I hate it so much." </p><p>He looks up at Remus and reaches up to tangle his fingers in that ashen hair, brushing against the shaven parts and it's so nice to touch someone. Patton can feel himself waver. </p><p>"I hate that I want this." </p><p>Remus smiles but it doesn't reach his eyes, it's a sad smile that isn't romantic or poetic. It's not even a tragedy, it's just<em> sad </em>because Patton knows this solace will be over as soon as he sobers up and goes home. He knows he wants this but he doesn't deserve something this nice, this gentle yet wanton and Patton thinks Remus knows this won't last past the night either. </p><p>"I know," Remus whispers, though he leans in again. </p><p>It's one gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth then another and another until Patton tilts his head, catching him in another deep kiss. It's hungry and pathetic and selfish, god, it's so selfish but Patton keeps going anyway with his fingers gripping the fabric of Remus' shirt and his tongue pushing past teeth. </p><p><em> God</em>, <em> have mercy on my soul</em>, Patton thinks as he lets Remus pull him into his lap. </p><p>Patton has never taken a thing in his life and now, he<em> takes </em>and he<em> takes </em>and he<em> takes. </em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. the seventh rosary bead</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He hungers. </p><p>He defies teachings and scriptures burned into his psyches and he hungers. Patton's hands run down soft, smooth skin that sears his skin from the heat and he hungers for more. Kissing Remus is as natural as breathing and there is the passing thought that if he stopped, it may kill him just as it would if he stopped breathing. </p><p>If breathing wasn't such a necessity in the first place, Patton wouldn't stop. If he stopped, time would move again and become a conscious thought then<em> this </em>would be more than a fleeting moment of weakness and euphoria. </p><p>He breaks away and Remus stares up at him, the warmth of their breath mingling together in the small space between them. Patton traces the shape of Remus' jawline, rough against his fingertips, committing it to memory and he can't help but smile at how Remus' hands travel down his arms and settle on his hips. </p><p>"Patton," Remus starts and it's clear from the expression on his face that there is no good that can come out of a conversation now. "We should go." </p><p>“Shh…" Patton sweeps him up in another hungry and desperate kiss, "Don't talk, you're going to ruin it." </p><p>Pride swells in his chest when he draws out a whine from Remus, a strangled and guttural noise of pure need and desire. He feels the way Remus' fingers grip into his hips to hold him steady, anchoring one to the other. It makes Patton press harder into the kiss, hands cupping Remus softly in contrast to the harshness of tongue and teeth. </p><p>He lets his hands wander, roaming down Remus' chest. He feels sturdy and strong where Patton feels soft, it's another difference between the two of them and it works in a way it shouldn't. Patton wonders what it would be like to touch him bare and exposed. </p><p>"Patton," Remus says again, pushing back on Patton's chest to break them apart. He looks beautiful this way, Patton can't believe there was a moment where he thought Remus was the devil. "We have to go. I have to get you home." </p><p>Patton slumps at the thought. Home was nothing but a place with loneliness built into the walls. Patton doesn't want to go home, he prefers it here in Remus' arms where he can pretend to be someone else. Here, he can forget his worries about who he's supposed to be and what others expect him to be. With Remus, he isn't at the mercy of his own thoughts and between the two of them, there was peace. </p><p>He could be himself with Remus under the cloak of darkness. </p><p>"What if I don't go home?" Patton whispered, chewing on his lower lip as he looked down at Remus. "What if we went to yours instead?" </p><p>“Patton, be serious…" Remus offered a sad smile, whether it was for himself or for Patton, he couldn't be so certain, "Come on, you don't want to be stuck out here in the cold with me all night." </p><p>That's where Remus was wrong though, Patton wanted to tell him. He wanted Remus to know how for once in his life, something felt right when they'd kissed. He wanted him to know how free he felt despite living on borrowed time, knowing that the dawn would come. He wanted to beg him to keep this illusion going, knowing it would shatter as soon as he got home where shame would blossom in his chest, giving way to weeds that would weave through his ribcage and crush his heart under the weight of his own self-loathing. </p><p>He didn't want to go back to the voices that reminded him why he couldn't have this back out there in the real world. </p><p>A bitterly cold wind blew through them before he could open his mouth to spill out years of repressed emotions. It sent a shiver down his spine and the realisation sets in as the night ebbed away, dawn growing closer. They couldn't stay here forever. </p><p>No, it wasn’t fair but life rarely ever was. A bitterly cold wind sent a shiver down his spine and he could see the dark of the night ebbing away, dawn growing closer and closer. Patton stared back at Remus who watched him, those unreadable eyes boring into him as if he was trying to pick Patton apart. He was reluctant to leave but Remus was right in the end, they had to go home. </p><p>Patton slid off his lap and began helping Remus gather up the empty glass bottles and shoving them into Remus’ rucksack, leaving no evidence that they were ever here. It was so quiet and tense, the walk back leaving Patton cold and empty with nothing but his thoughts to keep him busy. He hated how much he’d learnt about himself in so little time and how quickly it would all disappear as soon as he was left alone. Looking at the gap in the fence as they approached it, Patton felt his whole body weigh itself down with shame and longing to return to the roof where everything was simpler.</p><p>Remus crossed the gap, holding his hand out for Patton with a small and reassuring smile as if nothing had happened. Patton followed him through, taking his hand and feeling electricity course through his veins before pulling it back to hold to his chest. He was back in a reality where he was a school chaplain, a role model and a stand-up citizen in his community with high expectations to meet and Remus was <em> Remus</em>, a fantastic and talented art teacher with a flair for the dramatics and a surprisingly tender heart but he wasn’t that to anyone but Patton now, was he?</p><p>Remus Prince, the town <em> queer</em>. It tasted bitter on Patton’s tongue. <br/><br/>“Hey,” Remus shoved him as they walked back towards the car park, spinning on his heel to face Patton as he sped ahead, “I’ll let you pick the music, okay?”</p><p>As if it would bring a sense of normalcy to this new world Remus had plunged Patton into, he wanted to cry thinking of it. Instead, Patton just smiled half-heartedly and swayed into the man once he’d caught up, knocking him off balance and sending Remus staggering. There was a moment of reprieve, the two of them laughing in unison as they continued to push and shove one another like they were stupid, tipsy teenagers rather than just stupid, tipsy grown men.  </p><p>Patton couldn’t help but smile when Remus laughed, whenever they brushed up against one another and it didn’t cease to stop when they got into the car, music playing so loud that it was almost impossible to think. The noise barely keeps the intrusive thoughts at bay and Patton tries to repress them, he doesn’t want to be ashamed of kissing Remus. He wants to kiss Remus again, he wants to do it without feeling as if there is a divine law he’s breaking by doing so. </p><p>Oh, it was worth breaking a few divine laws though. Kissing Remus was a hallowed experience, it was as if he’d been inside the Notre Dame cathedral but he hadn’t burned up. He was the crucifix that hadn’t reached the melting point and Remus was a raging fire, only serving to warm him. He can’t help but think of the kisses and how well they fit together like puzzle pieces, running his fingers over his lips. Surely, there was more to this feeling than what he was allowing himself. </p><p>“Patton,” Remus’ voice broke him from his train of thought, “We’re here.”</p><p>His house looks so cold and empty from here in the warmth of Remus’ car and his reluctance shows if Remus’ softened expression is any indication. He gets out of the car and comes around to open up the passenger side like a gentleman, surprisingly so that Patton blinks up at him owlishly.</p><p>“I’ll walk you to your door,” Remus chuckles, sliding his finger under the seat belt and pulling it forward before letting it snap back. He only laughs harder when Patton whines in pain, “Come on, Hart. We don’t have all night.”</p><p>The two walk up the drive to the door of Patton’s house, lingering there in the tension when they reach the doorstep. Patton fumbles for his keys in his pocket, anything to bide his time and he hears Remus rocking back and forth on his heels, whistling to himself to try and fill the silence. </p><p>“This was something,” Remus starts, he sounds nervous and it’d be funny if it wasn’t so sad. “I had fun tonight, hanging out and shooting the shit. I hope I answered all your questions too.”</p><p>“I have another question,” Patton can’t stop himself, foolish bravery takes over and that hunger is begging him to take just once more, stoking a bright fire inside him he’s never had before. </p><p>“I didn’t catch that,” Remus looks down at him with those eyes and god, they’ve been drawing him in since day one, he just hadn’t known it then. </p><p>“I have one more question,” Patton says again and he keeps Remus’ gaze, “Would you like to come inside?”</p><p>He didn’t know what else to do to make his intentions clear, reaching out to touch Remus’ arm and keeping their eyes locked. Remus was going through a roller-coaster of emotions and each one was showing on his face, an open book of surprise and disbelief. </p><p>“Funny,” Remus laughed nervously, taking a step back from Patton to put space between them before looking down the drive as if gauging the distance between here and his car, “You’re a funny guy, Patton.”</p><p>“I’m not joking,” Patton insisted, reaching out to grab the other man by his hand. “I’m not so drunk that I don’t know what I’m asking and I’m not messing around with you, please come inside.”</p><p>Remus looked at their hands, entwining his fingers with Patton’s own, “You don’t want this.”</p><p>“I’m the one asking you in!”</p><p>Those eyes bore into his soul and Remus’ voice trembled, “If I do this to you, you’ll regret it. You don’t want me, you want answers and I can’t give you them, Patton.”</p><p>Patton had never seen Remus so vulnerable and open, not even on the rooftop and something about it made Patton want to dig his fingers into Remus’ flesh and pull him open to read him from the inside out. Reaching up to cup his face and pull him down into another kiss, he knew right here at this moment what he wanted.</p><p>"I want you, Remus. I promise." </p><hr/><p>Stumbling through the front door, the two shared hushed whispers and breathless laughter as if they were teenagers sneaking around. Patton had barely managed to lock the door, keys slipping through his fingers once or twice before Remus had trapped him against it, a wild grin on his face matched only by the mischievous smile on Patton. It was as if Patton was rediscovering himself all over again, all the parts he had forgotten and all the parts he had been told were too shameful to be known and yet, Remus embraced them. With Remus, he was beginning to fit the pieces of the puzzle together and he was eager to see the big picture. </p><p>“Hey there,” Remus breathed out, looking down at him. “Come here often?”</p><p>“I think that’s my line, seeing as this is my house.” Patton laughed, bracing both hands against the sturdiness of Remus’ chest, he could feel the warmth radiating from him and it was a strange contrast. Remus was strange but welcoming in many ways, fingers cold as ice when one of his hands fell down to stroke against Patton’s cheek yet where his heart nestled between his ribcage, he was pyre. He leaned into the way Remus’ thumb stroked against the growing stubble on his face, a sweet and simple action that was so gentle that Patton wouldn’t have thought Remus was capable of such a thing. </p><p>Looking up at Remus through lidded eyes, it was clear the man was waiting for a sign. Searching for anything that would break this moment and bring it crashing down around them, the hesitation that Patton might pull back in disgust and throw Remus out. Patton wasn’t going to let him find a way out of this so easily, not tonight and so he reached up to close the distance between them, crushing their mouths together in a bruising, heated kiss. It was all teeth and tongue colliding brutally until they corrected themselves, fitting together. It felt reminiscent of how they’d gotten to this point. </p><p>Patton gave an unbidden moan as a tongue swept into his mouth, curling against his own. He clutched at the edges of Remus’ jacket for purchase, trying to pull him closer, kissing him hard and desperate. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever felt this way, allowing himself to revel in his wants and desires. He’d grown so used to ignoring and repressing everything about him that was undesirable in the eyes of the public that he forgot what it was like to want someone this way, to kiss and touch them.</p><p>Remus just brought out the undesirable in him, Patton supposed.</p><p>“Eager,” Remus mumbled against his lips, his laughter husky and low as he pulled back. He let his fingers dance along Patton’s neck and collarbone before kissing him again to stifle any response that Patton could retort with, though there was no complaint to be had as Patton melted into it, savouring the contrast between a harsh kiss and a gentle touch. </p><p>God, how long had he wanted this if he truly thought about it? </p><p>Patton shivered at the thought, knowing that if it wasn’t for the underlying shame and internalised homophobia, he would have given into Remus a long time ago. Remus just had a certain power over him, a sway over his thoughts as if he was hypnotising Patton, it was the worst possible outcome and yet, Patton was beyond the point of caring. Remus just brought out the raw, unbridled emotion in him in a way that nobody else did and it happened with each encounter, plaguing his every thought until Patton was hopelessly entwined with Remus’ existence. To be untangled would send Patton mad, leaving him lost and without direction. </p><p>The anger he’d felt in the car park; the sheer panic outside of the bar; the curiosity he elicited in the church; the horror and shame in the church’s car park; the enlightenment he’d felt tonight on the rooftop of their work. All of it was Remus’ doing, nobody else had wrung him dry of everything he’d tried so hard to control. </p><p>Remus kissed him one more time, tongue pushing deep before he broke it off and pulled back. Letting go, he looked down to stare with clouded eyes at Patton and Patton found himself staring back, holding onto Remus as if he’d fall through the floor any moment now.</p><p>“Upstairs?” Remus asked, a little breathlessly as he took a step back.</p><p>Patton didn’t respond, instead, he grabbed Remus’ hand and leading him through the house towards the stairwell. They almost didn’t make it up the stairs, kissing and pulling at their jackets to leave a trail behind them. Remus held on so tight as if he didn’t want to lose Patton, not even for a split second and it wasn’t for the alcohol, Patton might have wondered what it all meant. </p><p>When they reached the bedroom, Remus pushed Patton against the door to press kisses along his neck and scrape his teeth against the tender flesh. The heat between them was intense, capturing Patton as if he was in an inferno and if this was hellfire, Patton found the burn comforting more than it was painful. </p><p>“You’re good with this, right?” Remus said, breaking away, breathing hot and heavy against Patton’s neck. </p><p>“Yeah, get on with it,” Patton rambled, eyes were blown wide, far too eager to reach out to the hand holding a forbidden fruit. A fruit that holds everything he had kept under lock and key, all he had to do was take a bite and forget about the consequences of his actions for one night. </p><p>Patton<em> takes </em>it and bites deep, pushing Remus backwards with a force he’d never exhibited. He never took anything for himself but tonight was about taking what he wanted, it was his time and so he took two steps forward to crowd into Remus’ space, nudging him backwards and guiding Remus towards the bed in the corner of the bedroom. He could feel the way Remus shivered under his touch and it made Patton grin to know how much Remus liked this.</p><p>“Whoa--” </p><p>Patton pushed him down onto the bed, looming over him as Remus propped himself on his elbows to look up at him. There was a beat, nothing but heavy breathing before Patton reached down to pull his shirt over his head slow and steady. He caught how Remus ran his lower lip through his teeth, eyes on Patton with awe and wonder as he began hiking the shirt up before raising it over his arms and tossing it to the floor. To be confident in one’s own skin, to evoke reverence and worship in someone. This must be the power of a saint, a prophet to draw someone in without question. This is what they did to one another. </p><p>“<em>Fuck, </em> Patton, you don’t have to--” Remus groaned, his words catching in his throat when Patton reached down and unbuttoned his jeans. </p><p>He kept the laughter bubbling up to himself, quick to kick his shoes off and use the carpet to drag his socks from his feet before tossing them to the floor. He could hear the rustle of his duvet as Remus presumably shifted around, though Patton didn’t look up until he was rid of his footwear. When he finally did, anything he had to say was strangled and promptly killed off by the moan that escaped him at the sight of Remus. He was sitting there, chest exposed that Patton could see the sculpting of his body like a marble sculpture and the way he was gazing at Patton with those godforsaken eyes through his eyelashes, thumb tucked into his waistband toying with the elastic, tantalising Patton with what was to come. </p><p>“Are you enjoying the view?” Remus said, letting the waistband snap back against his skin and the tight fabric put everything on display just for Patton. </p><p>“Oh god,” Patton whispered, inhaling sharply as he prayed for forgiveness in the back of his mind. He wanted<em> this</em>, Patton wanted Remus to break down his boundaries and push him to his limits, Patton wanted to commit Remus to memory. “You’re the worst thing for me, Remus…”</p><p>Remus laughed, amused by Patton’s eagerness as he climbed onto the bed and crowded into his space. Patton might have been embarrassed if it wasn’t for the soft expression that Remus was looking at him with, subsiding any fear that he was being off-putting. He leaned forward to kiss Remus, putting all of his passion and desperation into the kiss to try and convey how much he wanted this and that he needed Remus to know. He didn’t resist when he found himself toppling backwards onto the bed, Remus pinning his wrists down above his head.</p><p>Remus straddled him, one hand steadying him as he lowered himself down to whisper in Patton’s ear, the other hand pinning Patton’s wrists together. Patton didn’t resist, he didn’t want to resist. </p><p><em> “Scared of something?” </em> Remus whispered in his ear, low and firm in his conviction. </p><p>Patton dragged his lower lip between his teeth, exhaling as his body shivered at the words. The phrase held so much weight now, especially when Patton knew the answer had been yes each and every time. He may not have said it out loud but Patton was afraid, nothing drew fear out of him more than Remus and what the man brought out in him. Patton couldn’t deny how scared he was that he liked this, the harshness of tongue and teeth or the gentle caress of his hand. Patton couldn’t forget how scared he was that once this was over and the sun came up, that he’d lose this because without the cloak of the night and the warmth of the alcohol in him, he wouldn’t be brave enough to take what he wants again. Patton was scared.</p><p>“No,” Patton lied. </p><hr/><p>Through partially opened curtains, sunlight filtered into the room as the sun rose in the early afternoon. Blinking awake, Patton rolled onto his back and immediately felt the aches and pains in his body, the bones creaking and groaning. He realised his mouth was dry and his eyes felt heavy as if he hadn’t slept the night before. Pressing his hands against his eyes, applying enough pressure that the blackness gave way to light, he tried to collect his thoughts as he came around.</p><p><em> I remember why I hate drinking now</em>, Patton thought with a grimace, trying to conjure up some saliva to alleviate the cotton feeling of his tongue. </p><p>It was no wonder he felt like absolute shit, the poor sleep paired with the heaviness of his body made for a bad way to start the morning. He tried to recall the events of the previous night, remembering how he’d gone on a drive with Remus so they could talk. He remembered how they’d gone to the school and sat on the roof and talked a little about how their school days and Roman. He definitely remembers beer, enough that the two of them had gotten into the car tipsy and had more than likely broken more than one law, what with the drink driving and the trespassing. </p><p>Trying to scramble his brain for answers, remembering a kiss followed by several more. That was a jarring enough memory that Patton found himself sitting upright with wide eyes and fingers running across his lips. He’d kissed Remus, he could handle that. He wasn’t freaking out, not today, Patton kept repeating that in his head as he scrambled out of bed. If he pretended it never happened then maybe Remus wouldn’t bring it up and they could go back to how things were where they remained civil and stayed far away from each other to avoid any further incidents. </p><p><em> That’s right, just forget it ever happened, </em> Patton thought to himself. Looking around his room, he noticed there were clothes scattered around and was quick to start gathering them up until he came across<em> some </em>of those clothes that weren’t his own. The gears turned in his slow-starting brain and ground to a quick halt when he heard a mumble coming from the bed. </p><p>Patton didn’t need to look over to see who it was, the evidence was laid out all over his floor and he could smell it on his skin. The answer was obvious and the realisation was akin to being dunked into a bucket of ice water head first, waking Patton up from his zombified state as horror gripped him. </p><p>His clothes bundled in his arms, Patton escaped the bedroom, panic sirens going off in his head as he slammed the door shut and hid away in the bathroom. Dropping his clothes on the floor, he didn’t waste time locking the bathroom door behind him and pacing in circles trying to avoid his reflection in the mirror. He didn’t think about how Remus would be awake now, only focusing on the fact that Remus was <em>here</em>, in his fucking bed. </p><p><em> He’s in my bed</em>, Patton wanted to scream. </p><p>Catching sight of his reflection, Patton felt shame course through him just as he knew it would. Stepping up to the sink, he ran the faucet to splash water into his face and rub the sleep from his eyes. He needed a shower, that’s what he needed to do first. He could smell the stench of sex and sweat on him, clinging like a layer of filth and it made Patton want to peel off his skin layer by layer until there was nothing left of himself to be ashamed of. </p><p>Turning on the shower and getting under it, Patton was so dissociated from<em> everything</em>, lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t flinch when the icy water hit him and ran down his body. He barely moved, just sliding down the wall of his cubicle shower and letting out a muffled scream into his hands hoping the running water would drown it out. Everything was so foreign to him now, the sensation of a calming shower or the ice-cold becoming a welcomed warmth lost to the disgust and shame he felt. </p><p>All Patton could think about was how he’d ended up with Remus in his bed, the scent of sex clinging to him like a parasite and the shame that was trying to pull him under and suffocate him. </p><p><em> I slept with Remus, </em> Patton choked back a sob when he was able to admit it to himself. He felt his skin crawl with guilt and his body heat up with humiliation more so than the hot water. He had fallen prey to his own desires and urges, that’s all it was in the end and it was a weakness he’d allowed himself. It was a weakness Remus brought out in him. </p><p>God, he was going to throw up. His stomach was twisted in knots and he wasn’t sure if it would ever stop so long as he could remember how good it felt to be with Remus<em> that </em>way, feeling bare skin under his touch and eliciting the most hallowed sounds Patton had ever heard. He liked the way Remus had arched and bent to his whim, the way his name sounded on the end of a silver tongue. </p><p>A knock at the door disrupted his train of thought, probably for the best too before he truly dug himself into a hole he couldn’t climb out of. The sound startled Patton, making him scramble to his feet as if he was worried Remus would find the power to bypass the lock entirely and welcome himself into the bathroom.</p><p>“Patton,” It was Remus, of course, it was Remus. “Are you okay in there?”</p><p>Willing his voice to steady, “I’m just taking a shower!”</p><p>Patton felt his body tense as he waited for a response but Remus didn’t say anything. There was nothing but the sound of breathing and the shower running, followed by the sound of muffled footsteps he had to strain to hear. Letting out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding in, Patton knew he couldn’t hide in his bathroom forever as much as he wanted to do so. He’d have to go out there and face Remus eventually, they’d have to talk about it because this wasn’t something they could backpedal and pretend it never happened. Patton groaned at the thought, he didn’t want to do any of this. </p><p>Reaching for the shower gel and his body scrubber, he started rubbing down his body with the soapy suds as he sank back into his thoughts. The more he thought about what he’d done the night before, the harder he scrubbed at himself. The aggression with which he washed down his body as if it would wash away the memories and the shame, turned his skin red raw and paired up with the searing heat of the water, it was a wonder he wasn’t hurting himself. </p><p>Maybe he was and he just couldn’t feel it, numb to everything else other than his own thoughts. Cycling through the memories of kissing Remus, inviting him into his home and laying with him in his bed as if it was<em> normal </em>for Patton to do such a thing when he’d never slept with a man before in his life, not that he knew of. That led him to think about his past with Roman, a boy in the fog of his lost years, someone who had<em> loved </em>him and he may have loved back. </p><p>Could he love Remus the same way as he may have loved his brother all those years ago?</p><p>Patton dunked himself under the high-pressure shower in an attempt to wash away the thought, he didn’t want to entertain the idea for a second more than he already had. Instead, he thought about how he had to get rid of him as soon as possible, maybe even beg for Remus to keep this between them so it wouldn’t get out to the community. They couldn’t talk about it after today, it would only lead to bad things for both of them. Nothing good came out of whatever this mess was. </p><p>Reaching for shampoo, Patton focused on massaging it into his scalp and curled hair. Rubbing away at the grime and sweat did wonders for his nerves, though he wasn’t sure how long that would last when he got out and saw Remus again. Maybe if he was lucky, Remus wouldn’t be anywhere in his house when he stepped out. It was a nice thought, wishful thinking on his part. It wouldn’t be so easy, it never was in his lifetime. </p><p>Once rinsed and ready, Patton stepped out and dried off using the nearest towel on the rack. As soon as he’d taken a drink from the cold tap and brushed his teeth, combing through his unruly curls and waves, Patton felt a little more human than he had done this morning. The only thing that reminded him of what was to come was his clothes from the night before, the faint scent of <em> Remus </em>clinging to his clothes. The faint smell of cigarette smoke and beer mixed in with a sharp but comforting scent, his stomach twisting and turning as he breathed it in. He could remember the rooftop as if he was still there.</p><p>Pushing the thoughts down, repressing them as he did with everything undesirable, Patton made his way back to his bedroom. He was cautious and quiet, uncertain as he felt eyes on him as Patton approached his bed, trying to appear natural and picking his glasses up from the nightstand.</p><p>“I thought you need them for everything,” Remus spoke up, calm and steady as if last night never happened. “Your glasses, I mean.”</p><p>“I’m only nearsighted in one eye,” Patton mumbled, trying to repress the urge to smile. This felt natural, a normal conversation between two people. If felt<em> good </em>this way, good enough for Patton to look Remus in the eyes, ready to suggest they go out for breakfast as if that was a thing people like them<em> did</em>. </p><p>That was until he noticed how Remus was in the process of getting dressed, lacing up his boots. </p><p>“What are you doing?” He doesn’t stop himself from asking, he knows what Remus is doing but it’s the implications of<em> why </em>when he hasn’t even gotten into the whole mess of this. He’s panicking again, though it’s for the wrong reasons. </p><p>“Getting dressed,” Remus doesn’t bat an eyelash, he won’t look Patton in the eyes.</p><p>Patton’s smile wavers, the silence between them is tense now and he feels the weight of shame pulling him under the dark depths, trying to drown him. The night before hangs heavy in the air, evidence surrounding them. There is no normality here, not for either of them. This is new ground they’re treading. </p><p>“I see that,” Patton tried to laugh it off, shoving his hands into his pockets when Remus stood up. He wanted to reach out and touch him, the temptation was there and he couldn’t risk his resolve crumbling now. Remus just stared past him, chewing on his cheek nervously and keeping a noticeable distance as well. “So, last night…”</p><p>“Last night was a mistake,” Remus finished for him, his voice firm in its conviction but his eyes unable to meet Patton’s own. The wall must be pretty interesting. “I shouldn’t have come here.”</p><p>“Excuse me?” Patton hadn’t expected it though, that was<em> his </em>line. </p><p>“Sleeping with you was a mistake,” Remus clarified, “I should have dropped you off and gone straight home, I shouldn’t be here, we shouldn’t be having this conversation. </p><p>That’s what he had hoped to hear, Patton tells himself. It was a mistake, they agreed and so everything could go back to normal where they’d remain civil at work and keep to themselves outside of school hours, nothing but nods in the hallway and the occasional small talk where it was needed. Remus could grab his coat, wherever that may be, and leave and they’d never talk about it again. </p><p>So why did it hurt so much when Remus couldn’t even look him in the eyes when he said it? Why did it feel as if Patton had been given everything he needed to feel whole and complete, only for Remus to take it from him so easily? </p><p>His head was spinning, trying to analyse or figure out what in him had broken so he could fix it. Patton didn’t know how to feel, there was<em> so much </em>going on right now and he had to consciously remember to breathe. He was uncertain how he felt, a mixture of relief and shame and hurt but most of all, he was angry. </p><p>Patton had always been an emotional person but only in the sense that he let people see the best of him, repressing the worst parts about himself and keeping it inside. He’d done it for so long and then all of a sudden, Remus shows up and brings out<em> everything </em>in him. Anger and frustration coursed through him and he didn’t know what to do but let it out, “Are you seriously calling <em> me </em> the mistake in all this?”</p><p>He couldn’t stop, not when Remus<em> finally </em>met his eyes and looked right at him. He swallowed down the lump on his throat, frowning back and gesturing wildly, flailing his hands in an effort to get Remus to speak. </p><p>“Well then?” Patton demanded, “You seemed so eager to share last night, what’s got you so quiet now?”</p><p>Remus gave a small shrug, nonchalant if not for the guilt radiating off of him that made Patton feel even worse about himself, “I’m not saying you were a mistake, fucking hell. I’m just saying this wasn’t a good idea, I shouldn’t have let it happen because this <em> thing </em> we have going back and forth, it’s not good for you or for me.”</p><p>“What’s that supposed to mean?” Patton pushed, pushing where he probably shouldn’t. </p><p>“It means that you freaked out this morning and I’m not going to be the guy you fuck then leave high and dry just because you’re having a sexuality crisis. That’s on you, you gotta figure it out for yourself and I can’t be a part of it if this is how it’s going to end up each time.”</p><p>“Oh, that’s fucking rich!” Patton laughed, anger boiling over and coming out in droves, “Talking about me as if you know what I’m going through, what an absolute joke. You know what, fuck you, Remus, if anything me sleeping with<em> you </em>was a mistake because god forbid the town finds out I hooked up with the likes of<em> you</em>, I won’t have you drag me down and lose everything I’ve worked hard to accomplish. I’ve made a name for myself here, I’m <em> happy </em> here then you come along and ruin everything!”</p><p>Remus was trying to stay calm, that much was clear but fuck that. Remus comes into his house, lays in his bed then calls<em> him </em>the mistake? Patton didn’t think so, not in his lifetime and not in his home. </p><p>“You’re taking this way out of context,” Remus tried again, his voice wavering in how rational it was trying to come across, “There is a lot of internalised homophobia and other trauma you haven’t sorted through yet, that’s why you’re lashing out at me now but I’m trying to be responsible and draw a line.”</p><p>“You seemed really responsible sitting on my dick last night,” Patton snapped back, a twinge of guilt squashed down by the hurt and anger erupting inside him. It was such a horrible thing to say, it felt just as bad knowing he had it in him to say it in the first place but he was hurting, this was the closest step he’d taken to true acceptance and Remus was calling it a mistake. It was all too easy to take that and run with it. </p><p>“Real fucking mature, Hart,” it came out in a sneer, Remus’ calm and civil resolve crumbling to dust. He had gone back to calling Patton everything but his first name, something that shouldn’t be as painful as it was but last night had been the first time they’d been on equal footing and it had sounded so good to hear, when Remus had called him by his first name, it was like a prayer. </p><p>Patton bit his cheek enough to draw the tangy iron taste of blood, suppressing anything that wasn’t unrestrained rage and anger. It helped when Remus had risen to his challenge, it was easier to be angry than it was to act like adults and talk this out the way Remus had wanted. It made Patton hurt less at the moment. </p><p>“About as mature as you on any given day then,” Patton scoffed, “You know this is all your fault right? If you’d never come back here, everything would have been just fine but <em> no </em>, you had to come back and ruin my life because that’s what people like you do.” </p><p>“People like <em> me </em> ?” Remus held up both hands, letting out a sound of disbelief before running them through his hair. He paced back and forth for a few seconds, laughing bitterly in a way that made Patton feel a twinge of guilt tug at his heartstrings. “At least I’m not a coward, I <em> know </em> who I am but you?”</p><p>Remus let the question hang in the air, quiet and stifling and thick with tension but it wasn’t the tension they’d shared before. Before it was fragile and delicate, a single touch could shatter it but now, the air was thick with bitterness, confusion and pain. Patton knew he’d started this from a place of uncertainty, desperately wrestling with his wants and what he thought he needed to do. He wasn’t justified, granted Remus wasn't either but it was easier to argue with Remus because if he didn’t, Patton would have given in. Remus had become a weakness. </p><p>“You know what,” Remus cut through the silence, his voice quiet yet so loud in the emptiness of the bedroom. “I’m not going to be my brother, I’m not some dirty secret you can have when the lights are off or someone you treat as if they’re some sort of sinful act you can indulge in. I’m a <em> person</em>, Hart, I’m not some demon you make me out to be.” </p><p>Patton only realised Remus was so close to him when he found himself walking backwards, his back bumping against the bedroom wall as Remus trapped him there. It felt reminiscent of that night outside of the bar, heating coming off of Remus and Patton finding it hard to breathe in such close quarters.</p><p>Just like that night, Remus leaned down and whispered in his ear with words as sharp as knives, “I bet that car accident was the best thing that ever happened to you after you broke my brother’s heart; maybe if you’re lucky, you’ll get into another one so you can forget how you’ve pulled the same stunt twice.”</p><p>If being a mistake had been painful as a knife in the back then Remus had reached into his chest and torn out his heart with those words. He could feel the tears welling up, hot and angry as he braced his hands against Remus’ chest to push as hard as possible, sending the other man stumbling backwards.</p><p>“Get out of my house…” </p><p>Remus had steadied himself, looking up with surprise when he’d found his footing. Surprise gave way to guilt but Patton didn’t care, he’d heard what Remus had said, and now he didn’t even want to argue with him. He didn’t want to look at him or talk to him or think about him. He choked back a sob, taking in a deep and shaky breath as Remus tried to approach slowly, trying to reach out to pull him into a hug.</p><p>“Patton, I’m sorry, I took it too far--” </p><p>Patton pushed him harder this time, towards the door, “Get out!”</p><p>Remus just stood there, concern and remorse etched into his frown and those beautiful, hypnotic eyes. Patton felt sick to his stomach, shoving pack him to rush down the stairs. He managed to snag Remus’ jacket from where they’d left it at the bottom of the stairs, carrying it with him to the front door. He didn’t stop to see if Remus was following, he could hear him close behind.</p><p>Nearly ripping the door from the hinges, Remus tried again, “Patton, can we just--”</p><p>The jacket was thrust into his arms, Patton gesturing out to the front lawn, “Get out!”</p><p>There was no argument afterwards, Remus’ shoulders sagged as he accepted defeat. It felt like an eternity watched Remus cross the threshold from his house to his front step. He didn’t wait to slam the door on him, both hands pressed against the cold wood of the door before he let out a wail, sobbing as his body trembled. He could feel the tingling ache in the faded cuts on his face where the glass had scarred him, the whiplash in his neck that made him sore, each muscle grieved in agony. The accident had hurt him but Remus had hurt him more by using it against him. </p><p>Through his sobs, he heard a knock on the door. Peering through the peep-hole, he could make out the blurry figure of Remus on the other side. He held his breath, hoping Remus would go away or maybe he hoped he’d stay. Patton didn’t know anymore. </p><p>“Patton, I don’t know if you’re still there but I want to say I’m sorry,” Remus sounded so guilty and small, something Patton had never imagined him being. It made him almost think twice about throwing him out but no, Remus had taken it too far. Maybe Patton had done so first, he wouldn’t know but Remus had crossed a line that Patton was not prepared to deal with. He feels the spite and rage taint his soul into something twisted but he can’t let it go now, not yet and besides, he’d already ruined himself by letting Remus in, hadn’t he?</p><p>“I want to talk when you’re ready,” Remus continued, sighing when there was no response before stepping away from the door. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”</p><p>He watched as Remus got to his car, looking back in hopes Patton wouldn’t open the door. Patton kept watching through the peep-hole until the car was a dot in the distance, out of sight but not out of mind. He wondered if anyone in the neighbourhood saw, though it was fleeting compared to how awful he felt. They should have talked about this but Patton was scared, so fucking terrified.</p><p>Even now, Patton is scared. He knows that, he knows why and he’s scared of what Remus brings out in him.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. UPDATE</h2></a>
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    <p>Ooft, how best to say this?</p><p>I'm not continuing this fic - well, not the way it's going anyhow. When I started writing this, I never intended to go anywhere with it. I've got a problem with starting projects and not seeing them through.</p><p>But I really like this premise and I know a decent number of you guys do as well. So I want to do this fic justice. </p><p>So what's the plan?</p><p>I'm rewriting the story entirely. It's going to be very similar elements though, don't worry and many of the scenes are probably going to return but I want this fic to have an endgame goal and I want to do it justice without all the lazy plot holes I filled in.</p><p>I'm leaving it up for now but once I have chapters ready for the rewrite, I'm going to download this and delete it.</p><p>Sorry about this but I want to make this a fic I can be happy with, hopefully one you guys can enjoy too! </p>
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